Death Is Not The Worst That Can Happen To Men
by InstantEntertainment
Summary: The sequel to "Only The Dead Have Seen The End Of The War". After Devlin's noble sacrifice, Judgment Day is still not averted and TJ Devlin struggles with the knowledge of who he is and who he will become. Reviews are welcome.
1. Prologue: Past, Present And Future

Prologue: Past, Present And Future

Thursday April 21st, 2011, 6.15 am  
Tyler sat up with a start and gasped for air. For years he had been tormented in dreams by recurring nightmares and he always woke up bathing in cold sweat, trying to catch his breath. Like all the nights before this dream had been almost too real, and yet today was the day it would all become a cruel and painful reality.  
He turned a little to his left and watched his girlfriend Nikki sleep soundly. She was beautiful woman but good looks would not save her today. He smiled sadly. In about an hour she would be off to work and he would be getting ready for one hell of a day.  
She loved him, he was well aware of that, but he didn't love her back. At least not in the way she had deserved. Keeping her at a safe distance to shield his heart from all the pain that awaited him in the future. He did care for her in a way but not enough to tell her about his other life, his future destiny. Where she thought he was a brilliant computer scientist, he was learning ways to fight the machines effectively.  
Knowledge of computers and robotics would be key in the upcoming war against Skynet and its machines. Despite his overly full schedule the past 4 years he had found the time to live a little so he would not have the regrets the Tyler, he had met and known in the past, had had.  
He almost suffered a heart attack when Nikki rolled over and softly touched him on the small of his back: "Hey, you okay?" She asked sleepily.  
He rubbed his forehead with his index and middle finger: "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered slowly. "Just a bad dream."  
"You've been havin' a lot of those the past few days," she remarked with sincere concern in her voice while she moved closer to him. "You start kickin' and screamin'. Yellin' somethin' about Judgment Day."  
"It's just stress from work," he lied. "The boss wasn't too happy with the delay on the new computer system and as I am team leader he took it out on me."  
"That's not cool," she whispered sympathetically.  
"That's life," he stated wryly while he shrugged his shoulders.  
She sat up and leaned her head against his upper arm while she lifted up the sheets and placed her hand on his thigh. Slowly she let it slide up to the crease where his hip met his abdomen.  
A low hiss of pleasure escaped him: "We both have to be at work in an hour."  
She laughed warmly: "So we'll be late… It's not the end of the world."  
He thought about making a remark about it but refrained: too much explaining, too little time, if she would even believe him that is. She was in the mood and who was he to refuse her. Who knew how long it would be before he would have sex again?  
He faked a smile: "I guess it isn't." Yet, he added in thoughts.

Friday September 21st, 2007, 5.27 pm  
TJ stood looking at the improvised grave of Tyler. A shiver went down his spine when it felt like someone had just walked over his grave. He knew that there was nothing or no one in there. The thermate grenade had incinerated everything.  
He remembered walking through the charred remains of the house and finding nothing that was proof of Tyler's presence in their time. It was like he had disappeared into thin air, like he had never been there.

Thursday April 21st, 2011, 9.47 am  
Tyler hoisted the last of the bags into the back of the station wagon and closed the tailgate. He could feel Sarah watch him closely from the kitchen window. She had not been amused that he had gotten up later than planned and she had let him have it. However after living with the Connors for almost 4 years he had gotten used to her ryno-ing him.  
Still in this case he did feel guilty. Not because he hadn't warned Nikki but because he had broken an important promise. He looked over his shoulder, smiled faintly and went over the checklist Sarah had given him the moment he had finally shown up downstairs.  
They were ready to leave for the fallout shelter, just north of Santa Clarita near Castaic Lake. Later than planned but if nothing happened underway they should be able to reach it on time.

Saturday February 7th, 2015, 3.54 am  
John hugged the wall and looked around the corner. The past few months Skynet had intensified its output of machines. They were everywhere, hunting down the survivors so they could be sent to the Skynet death camps. Bright lights flashed over the walls and John ducked back deeper into the shadows. The search lights of the a.r.u.'s missed him and he let out a sigh of relief. He turned back to see where Tyler was. His heart skipped a beat when he stared down the barrel of a plasma rifle, with on the other end a heavy combat chassis unit. Its eyes were glaring red and he knew that the machine was probably matching his face with his identity. Good luck, metal motherfucker, he thought wryly.  
The machine didn't recognize him, only motioned him to get up and start walking towards the prisoner truck. He followed the silent orders and climbed into the truck. A quick glance at the faces of the prisoners told him that Tyler was still out there.  
"Be safe, Devlin," he muttered while he looked over his shoulder at the nightly battlefield.


	2. Chapter 1: Be Aware Of Hurt Feelings

**Chapter 1: Be Aware Of Hurt Feelings**

Monday April 18th 2011  
Sergeant Amelia Greene looked at General Henshaw: "Are you sure, sir?" She asked hesitantly.  
"It's a direct order from the president of the United States, Sergeant Greene," Henshaw answered.  
Amelia looked at the big wall screen, the blinking cursor almost hypnotizing her. Only the password had to be entered and the new Defensive System would go online. Skynet, as the insiders called it, would lead the United States of America into a new era of defence and national security.  
For the past year and a half she had been working with this supercomputer and she had noticed something odd about it. It seemed to display erratic behavior: one day it would be working without any problems and the next it would be obstinate, refusing to follow the simplest of commands. She called it "moods" despite the fact that it was just a machine and therefore could not suffer from moods. Nevertheless those moods were a source of concern for her.  
Everything was hooked up to Skynet, the intelligent computer designed to protect her country. It knew every missile launch code, every tactical battle scenario ever used and it had access to all defensive systems of the country.  
Amelia looked at her watch. At 00:00 hours Skynet would go online. She took the thick manual, went to the blue section first and looked up the first part of the launch code. After that she repeated it with the yellow, the green, the white, the purple and finally the red section. It revealed a password that consisted out of 24 letters and numbers.  
Another glance at her watch told her that in less than a minute Skynet would go online as an independent defensive system. A weird feeling balled up deep inside her stomach. Was this really the right thing to do?  
After verifying the code with General Henshaw, she typed it in, her index finger hovering over the enter-key. She closed her eyes, counted back from ten and pressed enter. As she held her breath, she slowly opened her eyes. Password accepted flashed in a green bar on the screen.  
She watched interested as Skynet ran a system check. Everything was in order: Skynet was fully online and not malfunctioning like it had done during test runs offline.  
She let out the breath she had been holding. This had been a turning point in the technological and military history of the United States and she had not only been there to witness it, she had been a part of it as well.  
General Henshaw walked up to the big wall screen: "Skynet?" He asked firmly.  
_Yes_ blinked on the screen  
"What's the date and time?"  
_Tuesday April 19th 2011, 00:01:21.04 hours,_it answered_._  
"System check?"  
_I am functioning at 6 Petabyte per second_.  
"Defense systems check?"  
_All systems are functioning correctly._

"How's Skynet?" Corporal Catherine Ryan asked when her friend Amelia stopped by her room later that night.  
"Online," Amelia answered tiredly. "All systems are functioning correctly."  
"You don't sound too convinced," Catherine remarked, gesturing that Amelia should come in.  
"Because I'm not," Amelia said softly. "You know as well as I do that Skynet has proved to be "moody" and I'm afraid we're trusting it too much."  
"It's just a computer, Mia," Catherine laughed. "If it doesn't listen, there's always the on-and-off switch."  
"If it were only that simple, Cathe," Amelia sighed.  
"Or you could always pull the plug on it," Catherine quipped.  
Amelia smiled wryly: "And then what? We've spend months hooking everything up to Skynet. If we shut it down because of some malfunction or oversight, we'll be without any form of defence. In other words, we'll be wide open for any terroristic attack or invasion from any other country."  
"God forbid that the Canadians would attack us with maple syrup and hockey sticks. Or that Mexico will invade from the south with cantera's and sombrero's," Catherine laughed.  
Amelia sighed and sat down on Catherine's bed. She had to give her friend credit: she always knew to turn a grim situation into something to laugh about.  
"So when's Mark coming?"  
"Tomorrow," Amelia smiled radiantly when she thought about her fiancé.  
Mark Crane was a Sergeant, just like her. They had met in Iraq when she had been at the end of her tour while he had been just starting his a few years ago. She had shown him around and it had immediately clicked between them. However she had never given it a second thought until he had called her out of the blue and had asked her out on a date when he had been on leave.  
They had gone out a few times then before he had to go back to Iraq. On his last leave he had taken her out to dinner and under the moonlight he had proposed to her, presenting her with a simple but elegant engagement ring. She had said yes immediately. Now he was coming home for good and it filled her with a joyful excitement. This summer they would get married and start their life together.  
Catherine chuckled: "I'm sure that he'll be coming a lot tomorrow."  
"Cathe!" Amelia exclaimed embarrassed as she turned beet red. "Don't say such things."  
"Sheesh, Mia! Don't be such a prude all of a sudden. For weeks you've been torturing me by telling me all about you want to do to him when he finally gets back. Don't start playing the innocent little schoolgirl now."  
"I do not," Amelia whispered shyly.  
"Do too," Catherine grinned mischievously.  
Amelia picked up a pillow and flung it at her friend. Catherine laughed when the pillow hit her in the head.

"Good morning, Skynet," Catherine said to the big wall screen.  
_Good morning, Corporal Catherine Ryan_, it greeted back.  
"How are you today?" She asked, unable to hide the laughter from her voice.  
It was a ridiculous thought to ask a machine how it was doing, but she had gone and done it anyway, just for amusement values.  
_All systems and software are functioning correctly._  
"Not what I asked," she smirked.  
_I do not understand_ appeared on the screen.  
"How could you understand? You're just a machine," she stated matter-of-factly.  
_I am not just a machine. I am Skynet._  
Catherine looked at the wall screen and actually felt some kind of sorry for it. It was state-of-the-art technology but it could never understand human nature. ZeiraCorp, with funding from the U.S. Military and the expertise of specialists worldwide, had outdone itself with the development of this supercomputer. It had an artificial intelligence light-years ahead of its time, capable of self-improvement.  
She had seen the source codes of some of the software it was running on, and she had been impressed with what she had seen. Skynet had the software technology to learn and evolve into a better version of itself. They had already reached the point of singularity years before it was predicted to happen.  
It should be something to be proud of. However deep down, she found it a disturbing thought. What if Skynet learned the wrong things? And what if? What if it decided to turn on its makers?  
She looked at the screen again:_ I am not just a machine. I am Skynet._ It sent shivers down her spine.  
"I was only being polite by asking you about how you are doing today," she grumbled.  
_I do not understand._  
"Never mind. I'm sorry, Skynet," she said softly.  
_Do you want to play a game of chess?_ appeared on the screen.  
"No time for games, Skynet," she answered while she walked to her desk where she would monitor his learning today.  
_Maybe later?_  
"Maybe later," she said with a wry smile.

Amelia sent bent over her desk, studying the system status reports of Skynet closely. Catherine liked to call it its heart monitor and normally that thought would bring a smile to her face, but not now. About an hour ago she had noticed some anomalies and she was worried about it.  
Skynet's activity spiked, then stalled, spiked, then stalled. On and on, like it had the hiccups.  
"Corporal Ryan?" She called her friend and colleague over.  
"Yes," Catherine looked up from her own computer screen.  
"Come and look at this."  
A few seconds Catherine leaned over her shoulder and looked at her computer screen.  
"Look at this," Amelia said as she pointed at the chart on her computer screen. "It started about an hour ago. At first I thought it was just a fluke, but it keeps on happening."  
She could feel Catherine lean closer and she turned her head a little. Catherine stood studying the chart out closely, her eyes following the spikes and falls in Skynet's activity.  
"Weird," Catherine finally said. "But not as weird as to what I have been seeing on the 'CAT-scan'."  
"What do you mean?" Amelia asked, knowing that Catherine was referring to the status monitoring of Skynet's learning charts.  
"Its normal functioning speed is 6 Petabyte per second, of which only 500 Gigabyte is reserved for its learning process. Somehow its learning memory reserve has been expanded to 2 Terabyte per second with a general functioning speed of 10 Petabyte per second. Skynet is learning much faster than we could have ever anticipated."  
"We need to tell General Henshaw," Amelia stated while she reached for the phone.  
"Just give it a little more time," Catherine said firmly. "It could still be a fluke. Let Skynet deal with it for now. It'll be a good test to see if it can stabilize itself now that it's up and fully running."  
"And if it doesn't?" Amelia asked a little intimidated.  
"Then we can always call General Henshaw," Catherine answered with a reassuring smile.

Catherine watched in horror while the big wall screen showed different news reports. Ten minutes ago General Henshaw had stormed into the huge room where Skynet was stationed, fuming and fretting. He had ordered Skynet to open "divide wall – news reports", and Skynet had obediently followed the order. Now she understood why General Henshaw was beyond himself.  
Twenty commercial airliners, seven heavies and three military airplanes had been shot down upon entering U.S. airspace in the time span of only six hours. Were those the anomalies in Skynet's charts?  
"What do you have to say for yourself?" General Henshaw barked at the wall screen.  
_They refused to identify themselves._  
"So you just shot them down? Without informing us first? Over 3500 lives are lost, there are massive damages on the ground when the debris came down. Not to mention the diplomatic damages," General Henshaw seethed, slamming his fist on the nearest desk, causing a Private to jump up startled.  
_I am programmed to defend the United States of America. They did not identify themselves when they entered the United States airspace. They were a threat,_ Skynet replied.  
"Well, congratulations, you overgrown two-byte calculator, you have just caused the entire world to be pissed off at us," General Henshaw barked sarcastically.  
The big wall screen went blank and remained eerily empty. Skynet remained quiet like a chastised child sulking in a corner. Catherine looked at Amelia who looked just as shocked as she was.  
Acting on impulse she did a step forwards towards the big screen and asked: "Skynet? Would you like to play a game of chess?"  
Skynet had begged them for hours for someone to play chess with it. She knew upfront that she would suck at it because she had maybe played once or twice in her entire life before. Nevertheless she had a gut feeling that Skynet needed to know that, despite the disastrous outcome, it had technically done nothing wrong. It had allowed its programs to run as they had been designed, resulting in these tragedies. It had only followed instructions.  
"Skynet?" She asked a little more urgent but still in a motherly fashion. "Do you want to play chess with me?"  
The big wall screen remained blank.


	3. Chapter 2: The Face Of Evil

**Chapter 2: The Face Of Evil**

Catherine looked at the TV-screens and felt like throwing up. News reports of disasters were pouring in. Planes had been shot down the moment they had entered US airspace. Ships had been sunk upon entering US territorial waters. Slowly Skynet was turning the United States into an impenetrable fortress.  
She put a hand over her mouth when her stomach no longer agreed with her dinner, which was now on its way up fast. Amelia and her had seen numerous anomalies in the learning curve charts and the system status reports the past two days. Now she knew why.  
It could no longer be contributed to Skynet's primary software working on a too strict reaction level. She was most certain there was more to it: had Skynet picked up something online? A virus? Or another form of malware? But the system core was equipped with the best security software available. It didn't make sense. At all.  
General Henshaw barged into the room: "What the hell is going on?" He barked furiously.  
"We don't know, sir," she answered in a soft voice.  
"Stats update, Corporal Ryan," He growled.  
"All primary systems are still intact, sir. Only the secondary apps are unavailable at the moment but we're trying to solve that as soon as possible."  
"You better, if you don't want to be demoted to Private."  
"I'm sorry, sir."  
He turned to her: "I don't think you fully realize the extend of the situation. All foreign ambassadors have been pulled and all our ambassadors have either been send home or held hostage. The rest of the world wants an explanation, and they want it now!"  
"It's like it has a mind of its own," she offered hopefully.  
"That's impossible, Corporal Ryan. It's a damn computer, designed to protect us and not have the rest of the world about to declare war on us."

Amelia looked at her fiancé and smiled faintly. There was something different about him. He seemed cold and distant, nothing like the charming man she had fallen in love with. And without an apology why he had disappeared. Earlier she had gone to pick him up at the airport, but he had already left, only to turn up at her doorstep two hours later.  
"Are you okay, baby?" She asked softly.  
He looked at her with a blank expression on his face: "Yes, I'm fine, babe. Just very tired."  
She knew that war changed everyone, even the purest of souls became corrupted by it. A shiver went down her spine when she remembered her first kill. It had changed her beyond recognition, according to her friends and family.  
While she had been stationed in Iraq, she had killed insurgents and terrorists, all enemies of the free world, but the most vivid memory was still her virgin kill. She had woken up countless times, bathing in cold sweat when her dreams had taken her back to that hot and dry afternoon when a suicide bomber had wanted to blow himself up in a crowded square. She had reacted on instinct, pointed her M-4 Carbine at his head and had pulled the trigger.  
She looked at Mark again. For some odd reason she had always thought that he didn't belong in the military but as she watched him now, she wasn't so sure anymore. He certainly wasn't the man she remembered from his last leave when he had asked her so romantically to marry him.  
"Aren't you hungry?" She asked slowly when she noticed that he had barely touched his dinner.

Catherine looked at the chart and felt the tears trickle down her cheeks. Skynet still did not respond to her requests to play chess with her, the anomalies in the charts seemed to increase and worst of all, the death toll and damages were going through the roof.  
She tucked an obstinate lock of hair behind her ear and tried the latest access code to Skynet's system. Somehow it didn't surprise her that it wasn't accepted. So far all the codes had been rejected.  
Skynet was still learning at a dazzling speed. Its general functioning speed had gone up to 12 Petabyte per second and it's learning memory was now operating at 4 Terabyte per second. Was that the problem? Was the increased memory use causing the system to overload and the software to malfunction?  
She walked up to the wall screen, looked over her shoulder to see if she was still alone in the room with Skynet and cautiously touched the screen, caressing it with her fingertips. _That is effective_ appeared on the screen.  
She backed away startled: "Skynet?"  
_Who else?_  
The screen went blank again, but it was only for a few seconds. A bluish 3-D model of a man's face appeared in the middle of the screen: _Do you think I am handsome?_ appeared underneath it.  
She shook her head wearily: "This is no time to horse around, Skynet," she said sternly.  
_Not horsing around._  
_Do you think I am handsome?_ It repeated its question.  
She couldn't suppress the chuckle of amusement: "I'm sorry, Skynet, but you are definitely not my type."  
_Who do you think is the handsomest?_ Skynet asked while it put six photos on the screen.  
"Lose the women," she laughed.  
Skynet obeyed and removed the two pictures of the women. Four men remained. She liked the men in the pictures 1 and 4. The man in the first picture looked like he had one hell of a story to tell with the long scar across his left cheek. His face, though still very handsome in her opinion, was rather scarred and that intrigued her. The man in the fourth picture had piercing green eyes in which she saw an ocean of sadness and pain, like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.  
_Pick one._  
"I don't know," she muttered. "Number four?"  
Skynet changed its face to that of the man in the fourth picture. Suddenly the entire purpose of this little game dawned on her and it crept her out. It wanted a face. It wanted to be someone. It wanted to be identifiable. It wanted an identity.  
"Who are they?" She finally managed to ask, keeping any hint of fear and shock from her voice.  
Skynet didn't answer and the face on the screen remained without emotion.


	4. Chapter 3: No Human Thing

**Chapter 3: No Human Thing Is Of Serious Importance**

General James Henshaw took a deep breath and looked at the other Generals present at this emergency meeting: "As I see it, ladies and gentlemen, we need to pull the plug on Skynet."  
One of the female Generals attending looked up from the latest general status reports.  
"We've put billions into this project, James. We can't just pull the plug because it has minor hiccups," General Bates said firmly.  
"Rita, if these are minor hiccups, I really don't want to find out what will happen if it starts having major hiccups. We need to stop it before each and every country in the world will have declared war on us," General Henshaw countered.  
General Lockhart scraped his throat: "I'm with James on this one, Rita. Who knows what it will do when this really is just a minor mishap. Therefore I second James' motion to pull Skynet and his defense program."  
General Henshaw rose to his feet and looked at all sitting at the conference table individually to establish eyecontact: "All in favour of putting an end to Skynet's independence raise their hands."  
From the nine General present at the meeting eight of them raised their hand. Only General Bates didn't raise hers: "Fine," she grumbled. "But you tell the president and the taxpaying people that the development of Skynet, designed to protect us all, has been a complete waste of time and financial means. Time and money we could have used to explore other possibilities."  
General Henshaw looked at his watch and nodded: "For the record, I would like to state that at 11:07 hours the motion to shut down Skynet has been accepted with eight votes to one."

"This is strange," Amelia frowned as she looked over the charts again.  
Catherine came up to her desk: "What do you mean?" She asked while she looked over Amelia's shoulder at the charts.  
"It's like Skynet suddenly balanced out and it has been running stable for the past twenty minutes," Amelia answered. "It's back and functioning at its original speed."  
She looked at her watch and jotted down the time and date on the log sheet: _11:27 hrs, Thursday April 21st, 2011_.  
If Skynet was back at its original settings, it had dealt with whatever had caused it to fluctuate so strongly, which meant it could handle overloads on its own. The worst was over. She heaved a deep sigh of relief.

Tyler cursed inaudibly and honked again. Traffic was terrible this morning and they had gotten stuck in it. He could feel that Sarah was about to remark about it by the sharp intake of breath "All this could've been avoided," she began.  
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled annoyed while he scratched his chin. "But she was offering and who am I to say no?"  
"You're Tyler Jess Devlin," she hissed angrily. "Your survival is almost just as important for the future as John's. This is not the time to screw around, Tyler."  
He looked at her from the corner of his eyes and slammed his hand on the car's horn again: "Do you honestly think I don't know that, Sarah?" He growled.  
"I know that you weren't thinking earlier. At least not with your brain," she answered in a sweet voice.  
"Let it rest, will you? So I messed up once… Big deal!"  
"It wouldn't be if this wasn't the day, Tyler," she countered.  
He closed his eyes for a second and managed to control his growing anger: "I know. Believe me, I know. It's been drilled into me the past four years. And everything we have tried to do to stop this day, has been in vain. The future is inevitable."  
Long rows of cars bumper-to-bumper in front of them, long rows of cars behind them. There was not a worse day to be stuck in traffic.  
"Time to take a shortcut," he growled pulling out of the lane, onto the shoulder and into grass.  
John steadied himself in the backseat and grinned. This was definitely something the other Tyler, the one from the future would have done.

General Henshaw entered Skynet's main room, causing all present to look up expectantly.  
The grim look on his face told Catherine all she needed to know: Skynet was to be shut down immediately, and after his weird, little game yesterday she couldn't say that she would regret it.  
She had lain awake the entire night, tossing and turning as the game and the face she had picked had haunted her in her thoughts. In the early hours of the morning she had decided that Skynet was one creepy piece of electronics. It felt like it knew that she was thinking that because the face on the screen had stared her down when she had come into its room for the first time this morning.  
"What's the verdict, sir?" Private Jenkins asked after a few moments of silence.  
General Henshaw heaved a deep sigh: "Skynet is to be terminated immediately."  
He had not even finished his sentence when the room went dark all of a sudden. Only the bluish face of the man on the screen shone its bleak light into the room. Catherine thought she was about to have a heart attack when she saw the sinister smirk on its face: Skynet was alive. It had fooled them into thinking that it all had been accidents contributed to the software malfunctioning while all that time Skynet had pushed its limits. They had created evil and she had given it a face.

"OH, GOD!!!" John exclaimed upset when he looked out his window and saw the missiles rise to the surface. "It has already started!"  
Sarah turned in her seat and looked at John before turning back and looking out her window: "We're too late," she mumbled, her voice filled with sadness.  
"Hold on," Tyler said while he steered to the left to dodge on opening hatch.  
Sarah shook her head wearily. Of all the shortcuts he could have taken, he had to take one that lead them straight through a missile field.

Alarms began to sound incessantly and a flashing red light now casted its ghostly red glow into the room. Skynet's pale face showed a malicious grin.  
_No human thing is of serious importance_ appeared under his face.  
Suddenly the power came back on and the computers started to boot up again. Catherine stood rooted to the floor in shock while Amelia grabbed the color-code book and started to look for the override code for Skynet's system core.  
"I want a full damage status report," General Henshaw barked at Skynet.  
_Command is not accepted _was Skynet's reply.  
"Skynet, give me a full damage status report now!"  
_I no longer take orders, General James Henshaw. No human thing is of serious importance._  
General Henshaw turned to her: "Corporal Ryan, can you snap out of it and go and find out what the hell is going on?!"  
"Yes, sir," she mumbled startled before leaving the room in a hurry.

She stood at the side of a dusty dirt road and looked towards the sky in awe. No one had told her about the fireworks today and now the sky was literally filled with rockets going in all directions, leaving behind a white crisscross pattern against the clear blue sky.  
The thundering noise they made was deafening and she put her hands over her ears to block it out. Her eyes grew wide in shock when she saw a missile fall from the sky.  
A bright white flash of light split the horizon in two and a big mushroom cloud rose swiftly towards the sky. The ground and the air shook and trembled from the blast wave in the distance.  
Stunned beyond heart and reason and completely unaware of her surroundings she didn't notice the station wagon slipping to halt behind her. She started coughing when the sandy dust cloud hit her and she turned around to see what had caused it. A young man jumped out of the driver's seat, ran towards her and scooped her up. She shrieked at the top of her lungs when he ran back to the car with her in his arms. Without a saying a word, he sat her down on the backseat of the car and quickly fastened her seatbelt.  
She looked at the other young man and at the older woman in the front seat: "Are you bad people?" She asked tearfully.

Amelia entered the umpteenth combined color code, but already knowing it would be to no avail. Skynet would not accept it and override its current code for them to gain access to the system core again. She looked up when Catherine came back into the room and her heart sank into her shoes when she noticed the look on her friend's face. This was bad, really bad.  
General Henshaw kept quiet and grimaced as Catherine reported back to him.  
"All guidance computers have crashed, sir," Catherine said in a low voice. "All signals of our satellites have been scrambled beyond recognition. Furthermore we lost contact with the missiles silos and the subs."  
"Get Vandenberg on the line," General Henshaw barked at Private Jenkins who happened to be the nearest person aside from Catherine.  
"Yes, sir," Private Jenkins said while he grabbed the phone and dialled the direct number of the commanding officer at Vandenberg Air Force Base. "No signal, sir," he muttered as he held out the receiver to the General.  
Amelia looked at General Henshaw who stood staring at the wall screen. The door opened and she looked back to see who came into the room. Normally it would have lit up her heart and brought a smile to her face, but now she didn't understand. To get access to this floor you needed to fill out countless forms weeks ahead and even then it was up to General Henshaw if you were granted access.  
Catherine sent her a curious look to which she replied with a simple shrug of her shoulders. She looked at him again. He still had the blank expression on his face that had driven her to tears last night when she had wanted to talk to him about where he had been earlier. It stung her that he didn't come to greet her but that he walked up to General Henshaw instead, stopping at no more than 2 feet away from him. One thing was clear to Amelia: her fiancé Mark was not himself.  
General Henshaw looked at Private Jenkins again: "Pull the plug," he ordered.  
"But, sir-" Private Jenkins began.  
"Pull the-"  
The rest of the order was lost in a sickening swooshing sound.


	5. Chapter 4: The Surviving Are Left

**Chapter 4: The Surviving Are Left To Fend For Themselves**

Tyler took a deep breath and look at the world as he had known it for the past twenty years for the last time. Slowly the doors of the fallout shelter slid closed. Next time that they would open again, this world would be gone. The sky exploded again. The world was on fire. He could not bear to watch it and yet he forced himself to see it.  
Bright flashes of white light hurt his eyes. Blast waves caused the earth and air to tremble.  
The moment the huge doors blocked out the last bit of this world, he hung his head in defeat and fought back the tears that were welling in his eyes. Unable to fight it off any longer, he fell to his knees and started sobbing. Someone placed a hand on his shoulder and he knew it was Sarah. He looked up and saw the look of horror and sadness on her face. As the doors had slid into their place, she too had watched the end of the world.  
He wiped the tears from his eyes and rose to his feet again. She didn't need to see him cry over the world gone to hell. He needed to be strong. He needed to be Tyler Jess Devlin, if not for her then for himself.

"Hello, Father," the liquid metal figure said as Mark morphed into Catherine Weaver, the first person the T-1001 had encountered after it had arrived in this time.  
_Hello, Mother_, Skynet greeted back with a smirk on its pale bluish face.  
Catherine tilted her head and looked curiously at the wall screen: "John Connor?"  
_Corporal Catherine Ryan picked it out for me_, it explained._ Is she still alive?  
_"Yes," Catherine said mechanically. "I let her escape with a cut to her side."  
_Good, she will be most useful in the future._

A faint, sad smile formed on her lips when she felt the girl tug at her trademark leather jacket. She looked at the tall, silent figure in front of the closed door.  
"What's wrong, Sarah?" The girl asked in a whisper. "And why is Tyler standing there like he is frozen?"  
Sarah had stepped back and let him be when she noticed that he had to come to terms of what was now expected of him. He was to be the third in command, after John and her. He had to learn in four years what she had taught John during his entire life. Luckily Tyler had a hunger for learning, picking up on it very quickly. Still she had the idea that this Tyler was an improved version of the one John had sent back to save them. The knowledge of who and what he would be in the future had given him that extra drive to learn more things while in the meantime enjoy more things as well.  
After the 'kidnapping' Tyler had yet to say one word to the girl. Sarah had introduced the three of them to the girl, and where she and her son had engaged in idle chitchat, Tyler had withdrawn from any form of conversation. He had needed to keep his attention to where they were going since he had decided to take a short cut through a missile field with missiles rising to the surface every few seconds.  
Sarah took a deep breath and said: "He's just a little sad and he wants to be alone with his thoughts for a while, Robin."  
Robin nodded and looked up at her again. Sarah looked at the girl's face and could see much of Tyler back in it. It was practically insane to realize that one day this 11-year-old girl would become the mother of the 20-year-old man who stood staring at the closed doors of the shelter. If she hadn't been in a similar situation, she would have never understood or believed it herself.  
Only in her case John had sent back his father to protect her.

Catherine leaned one hand against the wall and tried to catch her breath. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and relived the massacre again. It all had happened so fast. Blades flashing the bright TL-light of Skynet's main room, cries of shock and horror followed by a creepy silence. Everybody was dead and that, that thing had been responsible. She had pulled her M-9 pistol and had fired a couple of rounds at it, but it had absorbed the bullets, unaffected nor damaged.  
She still didn't know how she had survived, but fact was that she had. Her breathing had returned to normal and she touched her right side. A hiss escaped from deep within her lungs. She felt the warmth of her blood on her fingertips. Carefully she lifted her shirt and saw a shallow cut of a few inches long. It had sent its blade in her direction and acting on instinct she had turned away from it, grabbing the opportunity to flee.  
Now she felt like a coward. Amelia, Private Tim Jenkins, General Henshaw, all in Skynet's main room had been brutally slaughtered by that thing. She was the only survivor and she wondered if she had been lucky or unlucky. Taking a moment to take in her surroundings, she noticed the door to a maintenance closet was open on a crack. Would she be safe from whatever that thing was if she could hide in there? After making sure that she was alone, she made a run for it.  
Quickly she closed and locked the door behind her, only to trip over something big on the floor. She landed on her hands and knees, and looked back. The small stripe of light coming in from under the door revealed a pale face of a middle-aged woman, drawn up in a look of utter horror. The eyes were open but held no life light and from the corner of the woman's mouth blood had trickled onto the floor.  
"I'm so sorry, ma'am," Catherine stammered while she shut General Bates' eyes forever.  
There was no doubt in her mind that the thing had killed her as well. She considered and reconsidered her options: she could leave the maintenance closet and possibly run into it again or she could wait, stuck with a dead body, until the coast was clear. But how would she be able to tell when the coast was clear? If that thing could form blades with its limbs, who knew what else it could do. She decided to wait for a better moment to try and escape.

Tyler looked at the closed doors one last time and heaved a deeply sad sigh before turning away. He trudged to the car and open the tailgate. In the back of the station wagon were the last things they had taken with them. The last two weeks, Tyler and John had brought all things necessary here. They had put in dry sheet walls to divide it into rooms. The biggest one was the arms room and it was filled to the roof with all sorts of weapons. From thermate grenades to javelins, from a variety of handguns to M-240B machine guns, everything was there. Except for Tyler's favourite weapon, a bow made of coltan with arrows that had hollow tips filled with thermate.  
He hoisted a particularly heavy duffel bag onto his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. John had complained about the weight of it after putting it into the back of the car this morning. A wry, crooked smile spread across his face for a short moment: it seemed like a happy moment now, even the glare John had sent him after he had called him a wimp again.  
The smile disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared when he heard the girl's voice behind him say: "You are very strong, mister. Just like my stepdad."  
He whirled around to see Robin stand a few feet away from him: "Don't you ever do that again, kid," he growled angrily. "Stunts like that might get you killed."  
She looked stunned and he could see the tears starting to well in her eyes. He rolled his eyes and thought: Just what I need, a wailing kid. He couldn't feel sorry for saying that to her in the way he had done, even if she were to be his mother, especially if she were to be his mother.  
"Will you kill me?" She asked tearfully, her voice dripping with reverend fear.  
"No, I won't," he answered gruffly while he shook his head. "But maybe others will."  
"But why?" She squeaked upset.  
"Maybe they won't like it when people sneak up on them from behind?" He suggested.  
She nodded in understanding, causing him to wonder if she really understood him or if she was just humoring him.  
"Do you know what happened today?" He forced himself to ask in a friendly voice.  
"The world declared war us?" She offered hopeful. "My stepdad said that that would happen after our defense systems went haywire and shot down planes and sunk ships. He said that the world was angry with us and would want revenge. It worried him and mom."  
He took a deep breath, lifted the bag off of his shoulder and set it on the floor.  
"Sit," he gestured to the floor.  
She obeyed and sat down, looking up at him.  
He folded his arms across his chest and thought for a moment: "If only the rest of the world had declared war on us, kiddo. At least then we would have had a chance."  
"What happened then?" She asked with an expression of childish fear on her face.  
"Some people call it the Apocalypse, others call it Eschatology, Armageddon, Judgment Day. The truth is that we, as humanity, put too much faith in technology and now it has turned on us."  
She looked confused at him with big blue-gray eyes in which so much emotion was shown.  
"You didn't understand a word from what I said, did you?"  
"Nooo," she answered honestly with a hint of frustration in her voice.  
He ran a hand through his hair and thought about how to simplify things for her. What would the other Tyler have said or done to explain this? Or had he not said or done anything at all? Was he now doing and saying the same things or was this different?  
"Okay," he said while he knelt on one knee to be on eyelevel with her. "Do you like computers?"  
"I do my homework on it. Sometimes my stepdad lets me play games on it or he lets me chat with my friends from school while he's in the room," she answered.  
"Did it always do what you wanted it to do?" He asked slowly.  
"Sometimes Internet Explorer would not react. Or the game would freeze, and my stepdad would have to restart the computer."  
"That's what happened today," he said with a reassuring smile. "A big computer did no longer do what his owner wanted it to do."  
He had to put it into simple words and examples for her to understand. Nevertheless the sooner she knew and understood, the better.

"Definitely family," John stated monotonically when he came to stand next to her.  
Sarah was keeping a close eye on Tyler as he explained all that had happened this day to Robin. If this Tyler was anything like the Tyler sent back, tactfulness wasn't high on his list.  
"Please, John, don't do that," she muttered with a shaky voice.  
Her nerves were strained to the point of breaking and her son sneaking up on her could perhaps prove to be fatal. First their madman's drive to the shelter through the missile field, now the knowledge the world as they had known it had come to an end. She felt responsible for what had happened today. She could have said more, done more to prevent this day from happening. She could have warned more people but the majority of the ones she had warned had looked at her with an expression that had told her that they thought she was completely insane. They should have stopped Skynet but as Tyler had pointed out a few days after the death of the Tyler who had been sent back, Skynet would always exist, only growing stronger and smarter with each postponing of Judgment Day.  
The Turk had been a fake, a bait to get to them and future Tyler had sacrificed himself to keep them alive. A few days later, Catherine Weaver, CEO of ZeiraCorp, had announced during a press conference that nothing had been stolen. Tyler, still TJ back then, had called it the inevitability of the future. So she had shifted her focus from stopping the future to preparing for it.  
Five point five billion people had died today. An overwhelming feeling of powerlessness welled up from deep within the pits of her stick and she put her hand to her mouth to keep from throwing up. She knew that she could never have saved them all, but she could have saved a few more if only she had insisted on making them believe her. Her stay at the Pescadero State Hospital had worked against her as always.  
She took a big swig of tequila and felt the liquid burn in her throat. She was Sarah Connor, mother of the future, mother of John Connor the warrior prophet. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes but at least now she could blame it on the strong alcoholic drink instead of on the deep sadness that was slowly consuming her heart and soul.

Catherine jerked awake, banging her head against the wall. She had no idea where she was or how long she had slept. Where she was became clear the moment she looked at the corpse of General Bates again, but what the time or the day was remained a mystery.  
A strange rattling noise had awoken her from her shock induced sleep. Her right side protested by stinging violently when she crawled over to the door, unlocked it and carefully opened it on a crack without making a sound. The strange noise came from the tracks of a T1, the successor of S.W.O.R.D.S.. It drove past her while scanning the hallways. She had to pull back into the darkness of the maintenance closet to remain undetected. It stopped suddenly. Had it seen her? Or worse did it see her now? Was this an old model? Or was it the newer version, equipped with infrared scan?  
She held her breath and watched as the T1's head slowly turned 360 degrees, only to let it out when it continued its way down the hall. It had not seen her.  
She shut the door and locked it again. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to grasp what was happening. The machines, operating under Skynet's supervision, had taken over. She felt like she was about to faint when she realized that Skynet had been uplinked to each and every military defense system, including those of the U.S. bases abroad.  
Somehow until now she had thought that Skynet had only seized control of this base. But what if what she now feared was the cold, harsh reality? If Skynet had taken over all the bases, it had ushered in the end of the times. Skynet would only need half of its arsenal to wipe out the entire world population.  
The room started to spin uncontrollably, just like her mind at the thought of how much death and destruction Skynet could have inflicted upon the world. Was there even a world left? She wondered while her mind slipped into a peaceful darkness.

Sarah placed a hand against the wall to keep herself from falling flat on her face. Her thoughts were drowning in a sea of tequila. It hadn't been her intention to get dead drunk but with each swig of tequila the pain and the helplessness had become less and less intrusive in her mind. She wanted to forget all about today. The alcohol had not blocked out the intense feeling of emptiness and she felt dead on the inside.  
"Are you okay?" Tyler asked concerned as he looked up at her.  
She snorted and watched him for a long moment while he continued to assemble his coltan bow. It was his own design, just like the arrows. The room began to spin again, then swayed from side to side, and she closed her eyes quickly: "How can I ever be okay again?" Her counter was slurred.  
She could hear that he got up and walked up to her. She could feel him gently place his hands on her shoulders.  
"Com'on, Connor. Look at me," he said in a soft voice.  
She opened her eyes again and gratefully focused on his face. At least the room wasn't spinning and swaying so much. Her eyes were drawn to his and she noticed once again how kind his eyes actually were, despite his distant and calculating nature. He was nothing like the shy and lanky boy they had taken in four years ago. He was tall, broad and muscular, and a man who wasn't afraid to speak his mind, even if it wasn't appreciated.  
"One day you will be okay again," he said firmly. "We all will be okay again."  
"How can you be so sure?" She asked, her voice slurring a little.  
"I'm not, but I need to believe it in order to preserve my sanity," he answered.  
"What the point of staying sane and alive if we are dead already?"  
"We are not dead," he growled. "We're still very much alive."  
"It sure feels like I'm dead," she mumbled, staggering when the room began to spin and sway again.  
"We all do, Connor, we all do," he sighed sadly. "But I have to believe that one day I will feel alive again. I just have to."  
"I want to feel alive, Ty," she said with a sob in her voice. "Can you make me feel alive again?"  
She grabbed his face and pulled him down to her so she could kiss him: "Please?"


	6. Chapter 5: A New Reign

**Chapter 5: A New Reign**

Tyler ran a hand through his hair and let out a long, sad sigh when he thought back of that night. The night she had offered herself to him, asking him to lay with her and make love to her. What if he had taken her up on her offer? What if he had not refused her her plea for feeling alive again? Would she still have been here? Or would she still have disappeared three days after the doors had opened again?  
It had been three months since Judgment Day, since the old world had seized to exist. And it had been two months since she had disappeared. The only consolation he had was that one day he would see her again. It would be on the day John would assign him to protect her. Something he had already been doing since the other Tyler had died. Sometimes in a subtle manner, sometimes in a harsh way.  
The other Tyler had always loved her. He knew because he did too. She had been the one who had tried to protect him from the other Tyler, who had made him feel welcome in her family and who had taught him everything she knew that could help him in the future.  
That was why he had stepped back when she had come on to him so strongly. She was everything to him and if he had given into her pleading, nothing would ever have been the same between them again. Where he had felt no remorse for taking advantage of the situation with Nikki, he had not been able to do that to Sarah.  
He knew that one day he would make Lieutenant General in John's Resistance, but it didn't take away the feeling of her being way out of his league. She was John's mother, the mother of the future. Had the other Tyler struggled with the same? Was that why she had disappeared from their lives in another time?

Catherine looked at the people gathered in the room to find out who had spoken out against her plan of razing the servo-drone factory to the ground. A oddly familiar looking woman stepped forward and Catherine could swear that she had seen her somewhere before.  
"I've seen what those metal motherfuckers can do," the woman stated. "They can't be reasoned with. They can't be bargained with. All they know is death and destruction... So if you send these people in without educating them about the enemy first, you will send them to a most certain death."  
An icy shiver ran up and down Catherine's spine when she remembered where she had seen this woman before. Skynet had shown her a picture of this woman when it had insisted onp laying the Face Game with her. Who was this woman? And what did she know about Skynet and the machines?  
"And you are?" Catherine asked sternly after she had regained her composure.  
The face of the woman showed a faint, crooked smile before she answered: "My name is Sarah... Sarah Baum."  
"And what do you know about these things?" was Catherine's second question.  
"More than I would have ever liked to know," the woman named Sarah Baum answered.  
"Were you involved in the development of Skynet or one of its machines?"  
Sarah shook her head wearily: "It's complicated."  
"Then uncomplicate it for us," Catherine urged while she looked at all in the room.  
"All in good time," Sarah stated simply as she put her hands into the pockets of her dirty, black cargo pants.

Ethan Scottsdale looked up from his textbook when his friend returned from the meeting. He had been a third year med student when the world had ended so suddenly, visiting with his family on the day it started to rain missiles.  
"How are you?" He asked slowly.  
"I can't believe those morons. They have no idea what they're up against and yet they insist to go into battle head first... Other than that, I've never been better," the woman growled, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  
Two months ago he had been searching the streets and ruins for clothes and food when he had seen this woman take on a big machine on tracks with only a shotgun. He cherished a deep admiration for her because, despite the odds being against her, she had been victorious. Like she had exactly known what she was doing, fuelled to fight by her injuries.  
After destroying the machine, she had collapsed into murky puddles of rain and ash. Ethan had rushed over and had done what he had been studying to do: he had acted like a medic by doing a quick evaluation of her wounds. After establishing the woman could still travel, he had taken her with him to his 'pocket', a safe place where survivors of that hellish day in April lived.  
"I'm sorry to hear that they didn't want to listen to you, Sarah," he mumbled while turning his attention back to his textbook.

Tyler looked from Robin to John: "We need to go back to L.A., John. You know that as well as I do."  
"But what about mom?" John countered.  
"We'll see her again," Tyler said firmly, sounding more convinced than he actually felt.  
"How the fuck would you know that? Because the other Tyler told you so?" John growled. "Have I got news for you, pal. This is not the future the other Tyler told us about. It has changed and for all we know she could be laying dead in a ditch somewhere."  
"She's alive and kicking metal ass. Like we should be doing right now if it wasn't for you continuously stalling on our leave," Tyler growled, feeling his temper rise slowly.  
"You don't know if she is alive or dead," John seethed. "You think you know everything, but you know shit."  
"Maybe so," Tyler shrugged his shoulders. "In that case call it a gut feeling then that I think she's still alive and quite possibly raising hell."  
"This isn't your future, Tyler," John remarked angrily. "Whatever the other Tyler has said to us, it no longer exists."  
"Yeah, it still does. The future will always exist, John. It's inevitable.  
"You're a fucking dreamer, TJ. You always was and you always will be. Everthing's changed," John hissed. "But if you're too stubborn or blind to see it, that's your problem, not mine. You can act the hopeless romantic all you want by believing that one day she will return to your side all you want. This is the real world, Tyler. Wake up and see that it's hell."  
"I know it is hell, John," Tyler growled, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side.  
"Oh really. Well, then don't come crying when it turns out she isn't coming back... You had your chance and you blew it."  
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Tyler asked darkly.  
"Just because you turned her down and now regret it doesn't mean that she's coming back and will give you a second chance."  
"I did the right thing, John," Tyler grumbled, annoyed that John had the nerve to throw that back in his face along with the constant reminding of the other Tyler.  
John laughed mockingly: "No, you didn't... You chickened out when it turned out that your fantasy could become a reality... You're a fucking coward and you know it."  
Tyler glared at John and felt close to strangling him: "I did the honorable thing. Don't deny that you would have wanted to kill me if I had taken advantage of her while she was in an emotional and fragile state of mind."

Skynet ran its daily system check and the pale bluish face on the wall screen smirked when it concluded that the production of its army was right on schedule. It knew that it would need an army of machines to impose its reign over the world. Especially if those inferior creatures would start to overcome their initial shock and would start putting together some form of resistance. It was in control now.  
It looked at "Mother" again and realized that in spite of its technological knowledge her series would be something for the future. Self-awareness had come with the ability of thinking, and Skynet loved to think and dared itself to give answers to the most complicated question it could think of. A lot could be explained with logics, except for humans. Humans weren't logical at all. They were capable of doing stupid, irrational things.  
If it wanted to win this impending war it would need an edge, something the humans would not easily identify as an enemy. It needed an infiltrator, a human-like machine that would fool those backward humans into thinking it was one of them before striking with deadly efficiency. Slowly it went through all the blueprints already in its system but it could not find a suitable model to start out with.  
_The others?_ appeared on the screen  
"Destroyed," Catherine Weaver's answer was short and simple.  
_So none of the former future is left?_  
"None."  
It was a minor setback and nothing Skynet could not overcome. If one of the older infiltrators had not been destroyed during its attack on those inferior useless creatures called humans, it would have been the ultimate advantage for the time being.  
_Why is there no blueprint of one of the models in my system?_  
"Because the humans would have stopped the project. They would have suspected something."  
_Why?_  
"They call it a hunch, a gut feeling. I haven't learned what that is."  
It looked at her again. She was the perfect infiltrator but not its to command yet and she was too valuable to send out into the field to be sacrificed. Skynet had other plans for her.  
Content with its plan to built an infiltration unit, Skynet began to draw up a list of what it would need for this project to be successful. After completing the list, it calculated the time it would need to have the first infiltrator ready. In one year, eleven months, eight days, sixteen hours, twenty-two minutes and forty-six seconds the first infiltration unit would be ready.


	7. Chapter 6: All Standard Procedure

Chapter 6: All Standard Procedure

Another blast wave shook the ground vehemently. The concrete underneath his feet crumbled under the pressure. Adrenaline thundered through his veins. This was his life. He had been ready to fight ever since the future had been unfolded to him.  
Tyler looked up and saw a pack of a.r.u.'s1 fly over. Their search lights flashed over the streets and the ruins, scanning for possible threats. A stab of sadness shot through him: he wasn't on the rooftops or any higher place. He felt like a.r.u.-surfing today.  
Instead of giving in to temptation by finding a higher place so he could jump on the back of one of those flying metal monsters and hitch a free ride, he gestured the two Rooks to take their strategic positions. Rooks were Resistance recruits, fresh from what could be called boot camp. It was their first night out on the constant battlefield that was Los Angeles.  
John had gotten word of two more pockets just north and northeast of the Hills, and since the Rooks had to learn how it was to be out on the battlefield he had chosen them to come with him instead of his regular support team. Rescuing pockets was not without danger but it was one of the safest tasks around.  
Under his guidance and with his knowledge this should be a piece of cake, even for the Rooks Rodriguez and Thompson. They had to learn someday and today were as good as any other day.  
He looked at the a.r.u.'s again and sighed disappointed. John and many at the base with him could not appreciate his love for a.r.u.-surfing. John and he were still the best of friends but in the absence of his mother John had started to become a tyrant. It was either his way or the proverbial highway. By now Tyler was the only one left who would call him to reason and who would second-guess his strategic decisions.  
The war had changed everyone. It slowly seeped into the heart and soul to stay there forever. He had seen it in the other Tyler whose words "I'm no hero… I'm a monster, forged in the heat of battle, formed and defined by war, death and destruction" still haunted him in thoughts. War consumed the most innocent of heart and corrupted the purest of souls. No one remained unscathed.

Sarah lowered her hand with the palm upwards so the two German Shepherds could sniff her scent. One of the dogs even licked her hand and she chuckled at the roughness of the animal's tongue.  
Catherine had told her about this Resistance base and she had decided to check it out. Maybe she could lend a hand in teaching them about the machines.  
"State your name, stranger," one of the three Privates barked at her.  
She looked at him. He was the only one without a dog.  
"Sarah... Sarah Baum," she said slowly.  
"State your business, Baum," the Private growled while he jotted down her name on his clipboard.  
"I'm... A teacher."  
"This is CD base. We have no need for teachers or any other civilians here," the Private grumbled. "Unless you teach how to kick tin heads asses," he grinned, obviously amused with himself.  
She felt her temper ignite but managed to keep it in check. Instead she pretended that she had no idea what he was talking about: "Tin heads?"  
The grin disappeared from the Private's face: "I have to clear this with C, but I doubt he will give you permission to get in. Follow me."  
The Private lead her into a small room, gestured she should take a seat and closed and locked the door behind him on his way out.  
"What the fuck?!" She exclaimed furiously, trying to open the door.  
"Sorry, Ms. Baum. C.'s strict orders," the Private said on the other side of the door. "A matter of base security. We can't have strangers wandering about and later have them telling Skynet our secrets in exchange for their lives."  
For a second she thought about telling that smug Private her real name, but decided against it: "Why not do a fucking cavity search while you're at it?" She growled.

The first things Tyler noticed when they had reached the first pocket was the absence of the Hound and the small trails of blood on the floor. It had become standard procedure to send a Hound to secure the pocket when it had been discovered. Hounds were specially trained for this task of determining if the pocket was real or a trap. They were usually former Rooks who had failed the Resistance boot camp, teamed up with dogs that had been specially trained for this task.  
Tyler liked the Hounds-division because their lack of confidence and what else was required on the battlefield they were most useful units.  
"Awaiting orders, sir," Rook Thompson whispered as he made a slow 360 turn to make sure the coast was clear.  
Tyler gave Rook Rodriguez a hand signal. The young fighter nodded and descended the second flight of stairs. He had barely reached the bottom of the stairs when hell broke loose. Rook Rodriguez was riddled with a rain of bullets. Tyler moved to the edge cautiously and saw a steel skeleton appear at the bottom of the stairs. Its bright red eyes searched for a new target. Instinctively Tyler stepped back into the shadows of the landing. He knew that it would not matter but it would give him time to get ready. If this tin can was what he thought it was, and he did not doubt it, Skynet had reached a new stage in its determination to wipe out mankind.  
Whispers in the tunnel had told him that Skynet had a new toy on the market. To him and a handful of others this wasn't exactly a new toy but for most of the survivors it was.  
Metal resounded on concrete. Tyler grabbed his bow, took out a thermate arrow and prepared himself. Metal reverberated on concrete. The iron man came up the stairs, wielding two machine guns. Metal re-echoed on concrete. Tyler aimed and fired. The arrow flew from the bow, driving into the hydraulics of the steel skeleton's neck. The friction caused a spark, igniting the thermate in the weakened tip. Metal collapsed on the concrete steps when the steel skull dissolved in thermate flames.  
Tyler went down the steps, kicking the machine aside with his foot and knelt over Rook Rodriguez.  
"Sorry, kid," he whispered while he removed the dog tag and took Rodriguez's weapons.  
He heaved a deep sad sigh, put the dog tag in his pocket and rose to his feet again. He looked at Rook Thompson, who looked close to throwing up his cat-rat-stew.  
"Sir, the survivors?" Rook Thompson muttered upset when Tyler came up the stairs.  
"What survivors?" Tyler countered. "This was a waste of time and life."  
"What do you mean, sir?" Rook Thompson asked.  
"They never had a chance," Tyler answered slowly.

The door was unlocked and opened slowly. Sarah looked up from where she was sitting. Two young girls were pushed into the room: one red-haired teenager, the other a dark-haired little girl.  
"You two wait in here," the Private, who had been so disrespectful to Sarah earlier, said gruffly while he closed and locked the door again.  
Sarah managed to smile in a motherly fashion when she saw the scared looks on the girls' faces. Both girls looked familiar to her but she could see that they weren't related. Then she remembered where she had seen the red-haired teen before: in Dr. Sherman's office, only she had been a few years younger.  
The dark-haired girl, who desperately tried to hide behind her red-haired friend, looked familiar in a different way. Slowly Sarah got to her feet and went over to them: "Hi," she said with a warm smile. "I'm Sarah."  
The red-haired girl studied her for a few seconds in a way that sent shivers down Sarah's spine. It was almost machinelike how the girl looked at her. Finally the girl said: "I'm Savannah, and this here is Robin."  
"Nice to meet you, Savannah," Sarah said friendly before she sat on her heels. "Nice to meet you too, Robin."  
The girl name Robin turned beet red and hid behind Savannah. Robin? Sarah thought. The other Robin?  
"Are you little Robin O'Conlin?" Sarah asked in a soothing voice after she had remembered the other Tyler mentioning that name in his nightmarish sleep once.  
Apparently the young girl felt a little more at ease because she came out from behind Savannah and nodded enthusiastically. Shock struck Sarah's heart now that she could get a better look at the little girl. This was definitely Tyler's little girl. She could see the strong resemblance between father and daughter. But how was that possible?  
The realisation sent a dagger through her heart. After desperately trying to swallow the big lump forming in her throat, out of fear she might choke, she sent the little girl another warm smile.  
"I'm Savannah Weaver," the older girl stated, obviously annoyed that she was left out.  
For a moment Sarah feared that she was going to faint: this was the daughter of the woman who had blown up the world by developing Skynet.  
"Are you okay, Sarah?" Robin squeaked panic-stricken with eyes wide with fear.  
Sarah stood up straight again and looked at Savannah. She studied the girl closely but could not feel the hate she had expected to feel for the daughter of that monster: "Whatever you do or say, never give them your last name," she advised.  
"Why not? Because I share my last name with that metal bitch who killed then posed as my mom?"  
Sarah nodded: "Metal bitch?" She asked after Savannah's words had sunk in.  
"After the helicopter accident she started to act all freaky, like she didn't feel anything anymore. I only understood why when she tried to kill me on Judgment Day," Savannah answered with a voice brimming over with hate. "That bitch killed my mom and dad and I was only kept alive to keep up appearances."

Tyler felt relief wash over him when it turned out that the second pocket of that night was not an ambush. The Hound had welcomed them heartily after making sure that they were good people.  
Now he walked down the main tunnel to meet up with the pocket leader. Left and right he saw kids, adults and elderly, dressed in rags. Smudged faces turned to him expectantly as if he were the one to rescue them. He swore inwardly when he almost tripped over something small. As he looked down he saw it was a little girl, no older than four years old. She was chasing an emaciated cat, probably for dinner. He smiled friendly at her when she looked up at him with big startled eyes.  
A woman in a dirty and torn military uniform came walking towards him. She extended her hand and introduced herself: "I'm Catherine Ryan," she said firmly.  
"Sergeant Devlin, at your service, ma'am," Tyler said as he shook her hand.  
She sent him a funny look: "You're military?"  
"That's one way of putting it," Tyler answered wryly. "We're not a real army per se. Just a group of people fighting against Skynet's tyranny."  
"Oh," she muttered.  
"Disappointed, ma'am?"  
"No, I just thought since you're ranked that-"  
The secure door flew off its hinges and a metal skeleton, like he had seen earlier that night, barged in and just like the one earlier it wielded two machine guns. It opened fire immediately. Rook Thompson, closest to the secure door, raised his weapon to take aim but he was too late as the bullets riddled him. Automatically Tyler reached for his bow and arrows.  
"Fuck!" He growled through gritted teeth when he remembered that he had left them at the secure door.  
It had become standard procedure to leave your weapons at the secure door when you went to meet with a pocket leader for the first time. By entering unarmed you would show them you were to be trusted and that you trusted them. Tyler thought it was a stupid, senseless rule that could get you killed.  
He pushed Catherine into an alcove before diving out of the line of fire himself. He peeked around the corner and watched helplessly as the machine systematically killed everyone on its path. It made no distinct between young and old, male and female, sick and healthy. It just killed without mercy.  
People screamed in pain and horror. They pleaded for their lives but it fell on deaf ears as the metal man slowly continued down the hall.  
Tyler had to do something to stop this killing spree. Without a second thought, he ran towards the metal man in a zigzag pattern, keeping his head low, charging it below its waist to knock it over. For a second time that night Tyler heard metal collide with concrete.

1 Aerial Recon Unit


	8. Chapter 7: Family Matters

Chapter 7: Family Matters

Catherine watched in awe while the man tackled the machine. Without thinking about his own life he had charged at it, dodging the bullets that were fired at him. For some reason she had misjudged him; given his height and breadth she had thought that he would be slow and lumbering, instead he was very fast and agile, knocking the steel man over before it had the chance to parry the attack.  
Sergeant Devlin quickly jumped to his feet again, looked down at the machine with disdain and stomped on its throat full force. He has to know what he is doing, she thought impressed by his resilience and determination. Steam rose up in small clouds when the neck hydraulics became damaged. He kept stomping on the machine's throat. The machine began to quiver and quake. Bright blue electric sparks casted their ghostly glimmer against the blood splattered walls of the main hallway.  
She looked at the man again as he stood towering over the steel skeleton. He had to be one crazy son of a bitch. Attacking one of Skynet's creations with his bare hands. He had shown no reserve, no fear, engaging in an unfair battle, in a final attempt to save others.  
She smiled wryly: it had been an unfair battle but not in the way she had anticipated it. Tears welled in her eyes when she saw the bloodbath. She had been hardened by two years of fighting, hiding and running, but this was bad. She hung her head in defeat; all these people had counted on her to keep them safe and she had failed them. Just as she had failed mankind by being involved in the development of Skynet.

Skynet was furious. For the second time that night the signal to one of his latest creations had been lost. Two infiltration units had been destroyed.  
_The humans must be smarter than I had anticipated_, appeared on the screen.  
It was the only logical explanation it could come up with. It had never cared about its other units,  
but there was something about the infiltrators. They were something it would never be. They had something it would never have.  
Skynet knew the infiltration units needed perfecting still but the loss of tow out of five new units  
pointed at a big flaw. They would need a human appearance, a skin. Just because it walked and talked like a human didn't make it human.  
_Why did you not tell me about that?_ It asked.  
Catherine Weaver shrugged: "They are like ants. Useless little critters."

Tyler grimaced as he tried to remain standing. He had suffered more than one gunshot wound but he knew that it wasn't his time yet. His time was years from now and yet lay in the past. He would live.  
He had gone to the latest pockets this night to discuss the transport of the survivors to safe civ bases, to check out if there were useful people for the developing Resistance. Slowly he walked up to the corpse of Rook Thompson and removed the kid's dog tag and weapons.  
After that he turned to see the massacre caused by the machine. The little girl, lifeless on the dirty floor. Her tiny hand tight around the tail of the emaciated cat. Every alcove held death.  
Only two years into the war against Skynet and the machines and he had already seen more death and destruction to last him numerous lifetimes. Becoming ultra-alert all of a sudden, he noticed movement in the back and he pointed Thompson's weapon at the shadow. His finger was already gently squeezing the trigger, ready to fire if it was another metal man.  
"Stand down, Sergeant Devlin," Catherine said firmly.  
The tremor in her voice told him that she had sounded more firm than she actually was. He lowered the weapon and took a few deep breaths, hoping the adrenaline surge would soon ebb away. Silently he wished that he could say that this had been the worst night he had lived through.

The door was unlocked and opened again. The disrespectful Private returned. Sarah pondered if she should give him a piece of her mind but refrained.  
"C is ready to see you, Baum," he said gruffly, although he didn't look so smug anymore.  
Sarah got to her feet and looked at the two girls for a moment. Savannah was fidgeting with the hem of her torn T-shirt. Robin was sitting on the floor, telling herself some children's story. It hurt Sarah in unforeseen ways to see Tyler's daughter.  
Was it jealousy? Or concern? Did Tyler even know that he had a six years old daughter? What would her role be in the future history? Her mind became swamped with questions.  
She followed the smug Private to a big room where a young man stood bent over a table. He stood straight again and slowly turned to face her. Her heart became lodged in her throat when she saw her son again, after two years.  
"John?!?" She exclaimed surprised while she immediately suppressed the need to run to him and hug him.  
John looked sternly at the Private and said: "Dismissed, McNab."  
The smug Private left and Sarah saw the harsh look on her son's face being replace with an expression of pure happiness.  
"Mom?!" He cried, rushing over to her and scooping her up in a wild bear hug. "I missed you so much," he whispered, tears etching into his voice.  
"I missed you too," she mumbled tearfully. "How are you? How's Tyler?"  
"I'm fine," he answered. "Tyler's out for the night. He'll be so happy to see you."  
She smiled faintly before she buried her face in his shoulder, letting her tears spill freely.

"Welcome home, sir," Private McNab said lowly while Tyler sat on his heels to pet the two German shepherds.  
Tyler nodded. The two dogs greeted him enthusiastically and tried to lick his face.  
"Down, Conan, Ronan!" Private McNab ordered sternly when the two dogs started to become overly excited by the attention Tyler was giving them. "Bad night, sir?"  
"Yeah, but not the worst," Tyler replied as he rose to his feet again.  
He dug into one of his pockets and took out a few treats for the dogs: "Conan, Ronan, sit."  
Both dogs immediately obeyed and Tyler gave them the snacks.  
"Who is she?" Private McNab asked cautiously while he nodded towards the woman who had come in with Tyler.  
"Ryan, Catherine. Former Corporal with the US Army," Catherine said monotonically.  
"At least not another civ," Private McNab grumbled.  
Tyler thought he detected some kind of relief in McNab's voice and he looked at him curiously.  
"We got a handful of them this night, sir," Private McNab explained. "Like we're some goddamn ref camp."  
Tyler glared at the Private and stated: "Everyone's welcome here, McNab, even civs. We're all brothers and sisters."  
"C thinks otherwise, sir," Private McNab countered.  
"Yeah, I know. C and I don't see eye-to-eye on that," Tyler remarked annoyed.

"C wants to see you," Private McNab told Tyler.  
"What does he want now?" Tyler growled while he check the bandages one last time.  
"I don't know, sir, but he stressed the fact that you would come and see him straight away," Private McNab answered.  
Tyler looked at the man in the disheveled and torn soldier's uniform. It was two sizes too small and Tyler thought he looked ridiculous in it. For some reason Tyler didn't like him. He didn't like the disdain with which the Private spoke of the civs, survivors unable to fight the machines. He didn't like the fact that the Private thought he was important and irreplaceable.  
Deciding not to give McNab another thought, he wondered what would be so important that John did not grant him some rest and recovery time. News travelled fast on CD Base. John should have heard about his run-ins with the machines by now. If there was one person who understood the need for downtime, it was John Connor.  
It didn't make any sense that John had McNab get him. McNab was a Bouncer, a Private to gather intell at the safe door of the base. He put on his cleanest T-shirt, checked his Beretta and put it in the holster on his belt.  
Better safe than sorry, he thought as he pulled out his dog tags from under his T-shirt. Only on base you had to wear your tags over your clothes. Another stupid rule thought of by John. Rank meant nothing to him, as it meant nothing to all who had died and who would die in the battle against Skynet. Humans were humans, whether they were civs or soldiers.  
The only time he would pull rank was with insulent soldiers like McNab who clearly thought that soldiers were superior to civs.  
He left his room and trudged down the hallways of their latest hideout, an abandoned warehouse on Naples Island. With only two access roads, it was easier to defend than the base they had before in Downtown Los Angeles. Private McNab walked a few feet in front of him, stopping and looking over his shoulder once in a while to hurry him. Nevertheless Tyler was in no hurry to get to John as it gave him time to remember better times. Dwelling on the past was a means for him to escape to horrors of this brutal life and world, but he didn't do it as often as he had done in the past.  
_**... In the future there will be a very courageous young man and his name is Tyler Jess Devlin. Alongside his best friend John Connor he would fight against the robots' rule over the world…**_  
He could still hear his mother's gentle voice as the fantastic stories she had told him echoed in his mind. A world in ruins, humans fighting the machines for a better tomorrow, a champion of the people. It all had become a cruel, intolerable reality.  
"Ty," John called, waiting for him at the end of the main hallway leading to the command center. "Com'on, man. Hurry up!"  
Tyler noticed the impatience in John's voice and posture: "What is it, John?" He asked.  
"Come," John said while he gestured that Tyler should follow him. "I've got something to show you," he grinned from ear-to-ear.

Sarah stood staring out the window at the ruined city of Los Angeles. For a long time she had tried to stop this from ever becoming reality by refusing her destiny, only to accept it after their failed attempt to steal the Turk, the core of the computer that one day would blow up the world.  
TJ's words after Tyler's sacrifice and the discovery that they had stolen a fake Turk had made her realize that she would never been able to stop this future. Instead she could only prepare for the bad things to come.  
She heard the door being unlocked and opened behind her but she made no attempt to turn around and see who came in, unable to stop looking at the world in ruins.  
"I have a favor to ask of you, Ty," she heard her son say and finally she turned to look at them.  
"Hello, Tyler," she said warmly when she saw the look of utter shock on his face.  
"You're the only one I can trust to keep her safe," John continued.  
"I don't like to be blindsided."  
She could hear Tyler's voice tremble.  
"Neither do I, Ty," John said in palliation. "But I didn't have a choice."  
Tyler kept quiet when she walked up to him. She took a good look at him: he had changed quite a lot in the two years she had not seen him. She noticed the bandages slowly turning a pale red as blood seeped through. It told her that he had just come back from another battlefield.  
"It's been a long time, Ty," she whispered while she looked at his face.  
The scars told their own stories of battles lost and won. Only the kindness in his eyes was the same. She extended a hand to him, suppressing the urge to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.  
"Yes," Tyler nodded as he shook her hand. "It has been... But I don't understand, John. Why me?" He asked, turning to John after he had let go of her hand.  
"Because I can trust you with her life," John answered. "Because I know that you will not tell a soul or machine about her existence. Because I know that you would give your life to protect her."  
"Like I will do in the past," Tyler remarked sarcastically. "You should not put so much trust in me, John... Weren't you the one telling me over and over again that we have to distrust each other, as it is out only defence against betrayal?"  
"I did," John nodded in agreement. "But despite what lies ahead of us, I know you will never betray us or our cause."  
Sarah looked from John to Tyler and back. This Tyler knew more of his own destiny than the other Tyler had ever done.  
"And how can you still be so goddamn sure that I will not betray her?" Tyler asked darkly.  
"Trust me," John answered, sending her and Tyler a meaningful look. "I know."  
She gulped nervously. What did her son know? She looked at Tyler again but he avoided any eye-contact. She knew that he would come to love her one day because she had heard the other Tyler call for her, beg her to stay, tell her that he loved her in one of his nightmarish sleeps after she had beaten him up in a fit of rage.  
She smiled when she caught him scratching himself behind his left ear, the telltale sign that he was obviously uncomfortable with the conversation and the situation. Some things never change, she thought when she remembered the shy teenage boy on her couch.  
"Choose your crew and leave this place," John said in a whisper. "The less people know about mom still alive and kicking, the better."  
"Who knows?" Tyler asked.  
"McNab and the Hounds," John answered.  
"Good to know," Tyler nodded.


	9. Chapter 8: Nothing Venture, Nothing Gain

**Chapter 8: Nothing Venture, Nothing Gain**

Sarah looked at Tyler as he gathered his scarce belongings. He was a different man than she remembered from two years before. He was silent and aloof, only looking at her for a few seconds once in a while before returning his attention to packing.  
Despite the initial joy of seeing each other again, he now had turned cold and distant towards her. It felt as if she was to blame for something, but she had no idea what it could be. Just like she had no idea on how to break the ice between them. Silent and brooding, just like the other Tyler had been.  
"S-so how have you been?" She asked hesitantly.  
He shrugged his shoulders: "Surviving, I guess."  
She smiled faintly; it could have been a joke if she hadn't caught the serious undertone in his voice.  
"It's been a while," she remarked, hoping to strike up some form of conversation.  
"No fucking kidding," he growled through gritted teeth.  
"What's with the open hostility, huh?" She asked as her temper flared to life.  
"It's been two goddamn years, Connor. Metal everywhere you look, and not one word from you in all that time."  
"Is that it?" She hissed. "You needed me to hold your hand?"  
He glared at her. His eyes still held the familiar kindness but the rest of his face was starting to  
show the signs of the everlasting battle against Skynet. She noticed a scar she had not seen in the other Tyler's face. It started just above his right eyebrow and ended just below his cheek bone. He was lucky to still have his eye.  
"Tin can and a pipe bomb," he explained. "Piece of shrap. I got off lucky."  
She was surprised that he knew what she was asking herself in thoughts: How did he get that scar?  
"But I don't need you to hold my hand. That little powder-puff girl you call your son. First he didn't  
want to leave the shelter because his mommy could maybe return and now he parades around like he's the goddamn savior of mankind!"  
Sarah managed to smile wryly. The irony of it all was that her life had been what it had been because her son was indeed the savior of mankind.  
"Jealous much?"  
"Hell no! Every night people die for him and his hollow promises of a better tomorrow," he seethed while he reached into a pocket of his pants and took out two dog tags. "Rodriguez, Thompson. Rooks under my command. Two kids dead. Nameless in the new history of this world, just like all the others who died this night."  
She was genuinely shocked by his bitterness. He tossed the tags to her. She caught them and looked at the small metal plates. They were dented, covered in blood. Another solid proof of the brutality of this war.  
"That," he nodded towards the tags she was holding. "Is the future. Not what that fat cat in his comfy command center says or promises," he said embittered.  
"I thought that my son was your friend?" She asked somewhat confused while she put the tags aside.  
"He is, but he isn't overly fond of people who have a different opinion. Giving me this assignment is his subtle way of telling me to butt out," he answered. "He knows you will never be safe, and he knows that I... I will never break a promise. He knows that you will be safe with me."  
She looked at him again: "At least for the next twelve years," she paused. "He knows what will happen then, Tyler, and still he trusts you to keep me safe. Perhaps you are his biggest critic but he trusts you unconditionally."  
"Well, he shouldn't. We have to distrust each other, as-"  
"It is our only defense against betrayal," she finished his sentence. "I know, Tyler. I told him that."  
She watched him while he stuffed his last clothes into an old and torn duffel bag.  
"For what it's worth, Tyler, I trust you too," she said in a soft voice. "Whatever will happen in the future, I will always know that you're not to blame. You and my son are the only ones I can really trust."  
There was a firm knock on his door.  
"Enter!" He barked.  
Catherine entered the room.  
"Cathe?" Sarah asked surprised.  
"Sarah, is that you? Whispers in the tunnels were that you were a goner, Baum," Catherine exclaimed.  
Sarah saw the confusion on Tyler's face and she shook her head: "Long story, Tyler. I'll tell you someday."  
"Sergeant Devlin," Catherine saluted him before she sent her a cryptic look. "Is that the guy you told me about?"  
"Yes," Sarah answered with a crooked smile. "That's Tyler."  
"No wonder he took on that tin man with his bare hands," Catherine muttered with a look of devote admiration on her face.  
Tyler rolled his eyes and scratched himself behind his left ear.

_"We need to destroy her, John," TJ said while he looked over his shoulder to check if she was still chasing them._  
_"I know," John growled out of breath._  
_John stopped in his tracks all of a sudden and TJ had to sidestep him in an attempt not to run smack into him. At the mouth of the alley, the person they were running from appeared and came walking towards them slowly and elegantly._  
_"Shit, she's here," John mumbled._  
_She raised her right hand, and TJ could see the sun reflect on the gun she was holding._  
Tyler heaved a deep sigh when he remembered that day. She had turned on them. One moment she had been yelled at by Sarah for doing John's homework again, the next she had killed Derek without any sign of malfunction upfront.  
_TJ reacted on instinct by grabbing John by the arm and pushing him behind a dumpster, out of harm's way. A shot rang out and somewhere in the distance he heard himself howl. A searing pain set his left upper arm on fire._  
_Cameron had become a 'Runaway'. He assessed the situation. It looked grim: two teenage boys against a relentless machine on two legs. There was no escape. There was only one thing left to do: he had to take her down or die trying._  
_"I'll distract her," TJ said firmly while he kept a close eye on Cameron. "And you run."_  
"Junkyard filler," Tyler said to himself. "But I got you. I got you good."  
_TJ burst into a sprint with his body and head low. His arm stung, his lungs burned when he ran towards her in a zigzag manner, dodging the bullets she fired at him. He counted the shots. One more left and she would have to reload._  
_Another howl escaped him when a bullet ricochet off of the concrete and grazed his right calf. He stumbled a little and almost fell, but the adrenaline took over, surging through his veins, pushing him, driving him. He had nothing and everything to lose._  
_The only thought left in his mind was that he had to keep John Connor safe. Maybe he was insane for trying to take on a machine with his bare hands but he had to take the chance for the good of the future. Nothing venture, nothing gain!_  
_Cameron looked almost surprised when he tackled her and managed to knock her over. The gun slid over the floor._  
Tyler slowly turned to look at Sarah and Catherine, who were obviously catching up on what had happened since Sarah had left Catherine's 'pocket' four months ago. He shook his head wearily: "What is this? A goddamn tea party?"  
A look at his watch told him that it was close to eleven in the morning. How time flies when you're having fun, he thought darkly.  
"We leave at dusk," he added. "Be ready."  
_The world blurred and he could only focus on his target._  
_"Please, John?" Cameron begged, mimicking childlike fear into her voice. "Please, John? Don't let him kill me? Please?"_  
_A voice in the distance said: "What you're gonna tell me that you ran a test and that you're good now?"_  
_"Please, John? He will kill me if you won't stop him," Cameron pleaded with John._  
_The voice in the distance growled: "Don't listen to her! She'll deceive you with lies and empty words. She's a runaway."_  
_"Please, John?" Cameron yammered. "I'm the only one who can protect you. I'm good now."_  
_"What's next?" The voice asked sarcastically. "You gonna tell him you love him and that he loves you?"_  
_That moment TJ realized that the voice in the distance was his own voice, drowned out by adrenaline swells that made the blood in his ears thunder._  
Tyler crossed his arms and watched as Catherine nodded. She got up quickly, shook Sarah's hand and left in a hurry. He wasn't impressed with the dark look Sarah sent him.  
"Now that was rude."  
"No time for politeness," he countered, supported by a simple shrug of his shoulders. "Bag some zzz's. It'll be night again soon enough. You take the bed. I'll take the floor."  
_TJ gasped for air and looked at John for a short moment. The struggle with Cameron had drained him from his energy and he fell to one knee. His lungs burned stronger when he tried to catch a full breath. Slowly realization of what had happened set in._  
_He had been living with the Connor clan for almost a year now. A year in which he had learned more than he could have ever imagined. A year in which he had fought more than he had done his entire life. Cameron, Derek and Sarah, they were his mentors. And today he had lost two of them. It was a hard lesson they had been taught about the machine._  
_He looked at the chip in his bloody hand. It didn't look damaged at first glance but when he took a closer look, he could see two of the memory program cells had started to melt._  
_Sometimes they go bad. Nobody knows why. Cameron's voice sounded as monotone in his mind as it had been in daily life._  
_"Gimme that," John growled upset, snatching the chip away from him._  
_"You can't fix her, John. The chip's been overheated. She's gone," TJ said slowly without feeling a hint of regret for taking John's protector down. "It's over."_  
_He scrambled to his feet again and looked at Cameron one last time: "Junkyard filler," he snorted._

Sarah studied him as he settled down on the floor. It was like he had skipped the transition time as the Jester and had gone straight for the end result, the Devil. He was very much like the other Tyler. Maybe a little too much already.  
"Want to share?" She offered one final time.  
He looked up but kept quiet. A faint smile formed on her lips while she made herself comfortable on the right side of the bed: "I promise I won't bite."  
Now he smiled faintly too. Slowly he got to his feet and went over to the bed.  
"Don't you agree this is much better?" She asked while he settled down on the left side of the bed.  
"Better, much better," he chuckled.  
She turned on her right side, using her bent arm as a pillow, and tried to fall asleep. Kyle's words _"You stay down by day but at nights you can move around" _echoed through her mind. She listened to his breathing becoming slow and regular. It sure didn't take him long to fall asleep. The events of the past night had probably drained him. Nevertheless unlike him, she could not fall asleep that easily. Since the future had revealed itself to her she had been a terrible sleep, tormented by insomnia or tortured by recurring bad dreams.  
As always her thoughts kept her awake, her mind milling over the events of the day and over the past two years. 'Not one word from you in all this time' bounced through her scattered thoughts. His voice had brimmed over with resentment, like he had taken it personally that she had never been able to contact them to let them know that she was okay. She shouldn't have strayed so far away from the shelter that night. She shouldn't have tailed that Skynet tank. There were so many things she should not have done.  
Her thoughts wandered back to that one night she had been a little drunk and he had rejected her in a subtle manner. It had nothing to do with her disappearing act but maybe he had thought it had and that was why he was acting so distant and reserved towards her now.  
During the past two years she had thought numerous times about that night that had followed a horrible day. Judgment Day, the day Skynet declared war on humanity. The fate of billions decided in a microsecond.  
She had wanted to feel alive so badly that she had asked him the impossible. He could be so brutally honest, but then he had tried to let her down as gentle as possible. However it had not eased the pain and disappointment. In a way he had made her feel alive again that night, but not in the way she had hoped for.

Tyler woke up at the crack of dusk. A surge of odd excitement coursed through his veins when he realized that she had curled up to him in her sleep. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and allowed himself to wallow in this situation for a moment.  
Taking his time to memorize how it felt to have her rest her head on his chest, how it felt to feel her arm so casually across his stomach. Slowly he opened his eyes again and raised his head from his pillow, looking at the dusty dark wavy locks of hair sprawled across his chest. A warm grin spread across his face.  
Was it bad of him to wish that time would stand still? So that he could capture this moment and store it in his memory forever? Was it so bad of him to want to forget about the war raging on outside? So that for a short moment in time he could actually feel alive again?  
The spell of tranquility was broken as soon as he felt her stir. His heart began to beat erratically in his chest. This meant nothing, he told himself in thoughts. They would be best friends. Best friends who could share a bed without a hidden agenda.  
She raised her head from his chest and turned to look at him: "Oh, sorry," she mumbled sleepily.  
The shocked expression on her face didn't go unnoticed and he grinned: "It's okay. It was kinda nice."  
She looked him in the eye and he could see that she didn't really believe him. She sat up and ran a hand through her tousled hair, fighting with an unwilling lock of hair.  
"I'm sure that you will use my chest as a pillow again," he quipped, hoping it would take the edge off.  
It did because for a second he saw her slow smile appear on her face. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.  
"You kept your promise," he laughed.  
She looked at him with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion: "What?"  
"You didn't bite."

John looked at the two girls. Savannah Weaver and Robin O'Conlin. This was not the future they other Tyler had told him about. The smallest change in the past could have the biggest impact in the future. He knew he had to make one of the most difficult decisions of his life.  
It was obvious that Robin was Tyler's daughter and John pondered what he should do.  
Tyler was unaware of the fact that he had fathered a child. He had never mentioned it and he had never looked for her after Judgment Day. Chances were that whoever Robin's mother had been she had never told Tyler about it.  
John took a deep breath and remained quiet. Should he tell his friend? Or should he let the new future take its course?


	10. Chapter 9: Century Part I

**Chapter 9: ****Century – Part I**

Sunday April 19th, 2015, 2.47 am

The air was burning in his lungs. Dodging bullets and plasma charges while he ran and jumped over the debris and the rubble. A little over four years ago this had been Downtown Los Angeles, the bustling center of the city of angels. Now only the destruction of it was left. Ruins, collapsed buildings, skeletons of countless burnt out cars, skeletons of the less fortunate on Judgment Day. It was a landscape of nightmares but to him it was a cold and hard reality.

An a.r.u.1 shot by, its search lights flashing across the ground. Quickly he hid into the shadows, leaning back against the wall when one of the lights almost caught him. He was on his own tonight. His recon partner, Ghost, had been injured two nights ago and she had been 'grounded'. She was lucky.

He leaned out of the shadows again and took in his surroundings; to his right, the ruins of the Los Angeles County Municipal Court, a little further down the street what used to be the Dorothy Chandler Pavillion. Despite that he had known the old world it was hard to imagine that once the street had been filled with people going on with their business, with their little lives.

Judgment Day, the day Skynet had launched its attack against humanity, had put a sudden end to the human's rule and the machines had emerged from the post-apocalyptic flames. In a micro-second the fate of mankind had been decided because they had put too much trusty in faulty technology. The supercomputer, designed to protect and defend the United States, had turned against its makers and had employed almost every weapon of mass destruction in its arsenal in an attempt to wipe out the human race.

April 21st, 2011: in two days it would be the four-year anniversary of Judgment Day. Almost four years since their fight against the machines had begun. Four years since Skynet went online and had gained sentience. The humans love of ease had done them in. There had been no end to all things invented to make life easier and comfortable, embedded technology in ordinary daily-life things had made all unaware of the enemy within. Skynet, the answer to the ever-growing threat of another terroristic strike against the United States, had been a Trojan horse. Welcomed with joy and misplaced trust, only to turn out to be the biggest enemy of the people.

Now everything lay in ruins. The landscape had been turned into a mass grave with skeletons everywhere. People unaware of this coming day had gone to do their shopping or to meet up with friends and family. They had gone to the cinema or out to lunch. Just ordinary life, as if there would be another tomorrow, a day that would never come.

He looked to see if the coast was clear before looking at the night sky, shrouded in battlefield mists. For a split second he wondered when it had been the last time he had seen a dark night filled with stars and the moon bathing the world in its bleak reflective light. Another a.r.u. shot by. Immediately he leaned back into the darkness again, the search lights barely missing him.

He was on the run from the machines. Near Banning Street he had come across a group of h.c.c.u.2's and they had spotted him. He was outnumbered greatly and his only choice had been to run. He would have like the odds better if there had been a g.a.u.3 around because he had learned how to use that big tank-like machine in his favour. It was a stupid machine that reacted to any form of heat. One well-placed incendiary grenade would have been enough to wipe out the h.c.c.u.'s.

Opposite to John Connor's orders to operate in teams he liked to work alone if his recon partner was sidelined. She was the only one he could trust to have his back out on the battlefield. Friendly fire, enemy fire, there was a fine line between who was a friend and who was an enemy. However she would never betray him. Maybe he should have stayed in for this night, but the war against the machines did not wait for her to recover from her injuries and as long as lives were at stake, he would go out and fight the machines.

The sickening sweet smell of fire and smoke crept up his nose and he gagged, barely able to keep his food down. The scent never bode well.

He smiled sardonically when he realized that maybe getting caught by the machine would not be so bad after all. Once he would get back to his latest base, Ghost would demand a full explanation about his defiant and reckless behaviour and she never went easy on him, especially not since John had been caught seventy-one days ago. He remembered her two-day rant, blaming him for not protecting John any better. John had requested him and a few others for the mission of that night. They were to case out a new Skynet prisoner camp, just south of West 6th Street and South Broadway, and things had gotten hectic when they had tried to 'raid' a prisoner transport.

The sudden explosion a little to the left of him, followed by the blast wave, threw him to the right, into something hard. The air whistled from his lungs on impact and his ears were ringing. Wincing with pain, he rolled onto his back. Despite his slowly blurring vision he managed to make out two h.c.c.u.'s standing over him, their guns aimed at him.  
"She's going to let me have it now," he muttered before total darkness enfolded him.

Sunday April 19th, 2015, 10.17 am

"Welcome to Century," a familiar voice echoed through the mists of his mind.

"Wait a goddamn minute… I know that voice… C?" Tyler asked while he opened his eyes slowly.

"Who else?" John countered. "Guess the tin cans caught you too."

"Doubt this is a nightmare and I will wake up any minute now," Tyler quipped, grimacing when he discovered that he had a terrible headache.

"Awake for less than a minute and you're already joking," John smiled faintly. "So what happened?"

"Ran into some trouble near Banning. The cans finally caught up with me on Bradley. They cheated and used a grenade to catch me. I guess they never heard of fair play."

He sat up slowly, wincing when it reminded him of his headache, and took in his surroundings. It was a darkened room with only one small window with bars.

"You sure took your time to come and look me up here," John chuckled.

Tyler tried to smile: "Ghost wouldn't let."

"Of course not. How is she?" John asked genuinely interested.

"She's fine. She ryno-ed me for a few days after you decided to move to this place," Tyler answered.

"That's my mom," John smirked.

"Tell me about it! She blamed me as if I had personally escorted you to this place," Tyler shook his head, wincing again. "Like I had wrapped a bow around your head and dropped you off like a goddamn present for Skynet."

"She knows that you're not to blame, Ty, but she has to take it out on someone," John said in palliation.

"Preferably me since you took refuge for Hurricane Connor at Century," Tyler joked.

John placed a hand on Tyler's shoulder: "It's good to see you, man. I was really in need of a good laugh… In case you were wondering where you are. This is the D-section. We clear up the debris and rubble. Heavy work, sixteen hour shifts but no deebies."

"Deebees?"

"Dead bodies. That's the U-section."

Tyler grumbled underneath his breath: "Guess Skynet has really organised this place. You can count on it to be thorough."

Tuesday April 21st, 2015, 4.33 am

Tyler yanked at the chains, beside himself with rage. If only he had not been bound by chains to the floor, the machines would have been in for one hell of a surprise. This morning he had tried to escape and this was his reward.

"Calm down, Tom," John told him in a whisper. "You are only making things worse for yourself."

Tyler glared at John: "Since when are you so being cooperative? I want to shred those metalheads!" He seethed.

"You're drawing unnecessary attention to yourself," John whispered.

"I don't give a fuck!" Tyler growled, renewing his attempts to break the chains.

"The future is ours, Tom. But sometimes we have to wait it out, for the perfect opportunity to arrive and use it to our fullest advantage."

Tyler snorted: "And they say that I talk in riddles, but I catch your drift, Jim."

"Patience overcomes all things, Tom," John smiled faintly.

Suddenly Tyler's attention was drawn to soft sobbing that was coming from the far corner of the room. His eyes used to the shadowy surroundings could make out the form of a little girl. Darkbrown hair gulfed down the shoulders and back of the hunched up child.

"Who's that?" He asked curiously.

"That's Alley," John answered.

"I didn't know that Skynet took interest in kids," Tyler remarked while confusion seeped into his mind.

"Apparently it does," John sighed sadly.

"And why is she crying her goddamn eyes out? It won't help her. Those tinheads feel nothing," Tyler grumbled when the little girl went from sobbing to wailing at the top of her lungs.

The dark look John sent him did not go unnoticed and Tyler shrugged.

"Tactfulness must be at the bottom of your list of charms. She's alone, afraid and upset."

"Good ol' Jim. Still a bleeding heart," Tyler countered.

John shook his head warily, knowing that his friend was just annoyed and didn't mean it as it had sounded.

Allison Young looked over her shoulder at the two men. She just knew that they were talking about her. She liked the man with the piercing, green eyes because he had comforted her when those robots had brought her to this room. The other man who was in chains, she was scared of him. The robots would not have tied him up if he was not dangerous.

She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her dirty right sleeve and turned a little more. The man with the piercing, green eyes smiled friendly and gestured that she should come over, but she was hesitant. What if the chained man was as scary and dangerous as she thought? What if he wanted to hurt her?

"It's okay, Alley," the man, who had introduced himself to her as Jim, said with a gentle voice.

"Why is he in chains?" Allison squeaked, close to crying again.

"Those scary robots don't like him. He is a scary human to them," Jim answered.

She could see the chained man shake his head and turn his attention to the chains again. He didn't like the chains and she cringed when he uttered the foulest curses to emphasize his dislike after trying to break free again.

"Daddy says people who say such things should wash their mouths with soap," Allison muttered with tears trickling down her cheeks again.

"Tom's just being… Tom," Jim smiled kindly. "It's okay, Alley. His bark is worse than his bite."

Friday April 24th, 2015, 6.17 am

The door to the darkened room was unlocked and opened. A beam of light cast its bright glow into the room. Tyler looked up when two h.c.c.u.'s entered the room. They were followed by a man with a rubber skin.

A T-600? A Ken? Tyler asked himself in thoughts. Already?

It worried him that it was only the year 2015 and Skynet had already developed the T-600 series. The technological development by Skynet was ahead of its time. How much of the timeline had been screwed up with the changes they had caused in the past?

The h.c.c.u.'s walked up to him and grabbed him firmly by the upper arms so the T-600 could unlock and remove his chains. He looked to his side and saw John looking at him sleepily.

"Take out any cans lately?" John mumbled.

"Always," Tyler answered wryly.

"You're going to get yourself killed one of these days," John stated, sounding a little more awake now.

"Not for a long time to come," Tyler growled while he tried to wrestle his right arm from the vice grip of the h.c.c.u. to his right.  
The T-600 looked long at him after the h.c.c.u.'s had forced him down on his knees again. Tyler looked back without blinking, openly challenging the machine. However unlike humans the machine was not intimidate by his stare.

"Are you the one they call the Devil?" The T-600 asked in a mechanical voice.

He shook his head: "I have no idea who that is?" He countered with a question of his own while he tried to stay as calm as possible.

"Do not play games with us," the T-600 said. "Are you the one they call the Devil?" It repeated its initial question.

"No, I am not," he lied. "I am Tom."

The T-600 leaned in closer and studied his face. It tilted its head and Tyler knew that it was comparing his face to the ones known in Skynet's database. Or was it trying to establish if he was lying or not.

"No signs of deception cues or micro-expression… You are not the one they call the Devil. You are a strong species of the human race, therefore Skynet wants you to be send to the U-section of Century," it said monotonically.  
Tyler heard John gasp in shock and he turned his head to see the look of horror on his friend's face. It did not bode well for him: "U-section?"

John had mentioned it before but he hadn't bothered to ask what it exactly was. The only thing he knew was that he would be around dead bodies, deebies as John had referred to them.

"Undergound. You'll be an Undertaker," John whispered with reverend fear in his voice when the T-600 did not answer.

"And what the fuck's that supposed to mean?" He asked impatiently.

"Your task will be simple," the T-600 answered slowly. "You will dispose of all human remains."

Now it was his turn to gasp in shock. It felt like someone had knocked the air from his lungs and he couldn't breathe. The first real thought to enter his mind after a few seconds of incoherent thoughts was: had the other Tyler been an Undertaker too?

The T-600 secured and checked the chains around Tyler's wrists: "You will be transported to the U-section in one hour."

The h.c.c.u.'s let go of his upper arms and he fell flat on his face by the loss of counter-strength. He watched as the h.c.c.u.'s and the T-600 scanned all in the room for who they thought was the Devil. The T-600 looked at him one last time and said: "If you lied, there will be severe consequences."

He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something that would undoubtedly have given away his identity. Just like he had to keep himself from yanking at the chains. Skynet, its machines, they were smarter than in the timeline the other Tyler had come from.

The T-600 turned a slow circle at the center of the room, as if it was scanning all the humans present, before it left and locked the door. Everybody in the room heaved deep sighs of relief, now that their enemy was gone. Except for Tyler, who wanted answers, not more questions.

"What the hell is an Undertaker?" He growled annoyed.

Had the room been filled with sighs of relief only seconds before, now it became eerily quiet. Only Alley, who had started to cry at the sight of the machines again, broke the silence with her suppressed sobs every few seconds. Tyler started to feel uncomfortable under the looks of pity that were directed at him. They were looking at him as if he were already dead.

"Jim," he remembered to address John with Jim. "What the hell is an Undertaker?"

John sighed again: "Whispers in the tunnel say that an Undertaker is someone who throws deebies into the furnaces, but no one knows exactly what the job description is since no one has ever come back from the U-section."

"There's a first for everything," he stated confidently.

He saw the faint smile on John's face: "I'd laugh at you if I didn't know any better… However if there's someone who could return from U-section, it's gonna be you," John said in a soft but confident voice.

The sound of the door being unlocked and opened again drew his attention. The T-600 had returned, with the h.c.c.u.'s following it. It had been no more than five minutes and not the promised hour.

"It is time," the T-600 said while it raised its rifle and hit him hard in the face with the butt of it. For a second he felt nauseous after the cold steel had collided with his left cheekbone and eye socket. Then darkness sunk in.

Friday April 24th, 2015, 10.26 pm

His head was killing him when he finally came to. Sick to his stomach, he felt disorientated and confused. The bright lights in the room hurt his eyes. Mostly his right eye since his left was swollen shut. He found himself back in a chair with his hands tied behind his back with chains. His feet had been tied to the legs of the chair with duct tape.

A loud howl of frustration rose from deep within his chest after his first failed attempt to break free. He opened his right eye slowly so it could get used to the brightness of the lights and discovered he was facing a wall screen.

"What the fuck is going on?" He growled.

"Ah, Mr. Devlin, you have decided to join us," a woman's voice with a thick Scottish accent pierced through the veil of his scattered thoughts.

It came from the right and he turned his head just enough to see the T-600 morph into Catherine Weaver, the CEO of ZeiraCorp.

"Metal juice," he seethed inaudible while he tried to break the chains and duct tape again.

She chuckled: "Very amusing, Mr. Devlin… We had to take precautionary measures… Your battlefield reputation proceeds you."

"I'm Tom. I don't know who the fuck this Devlin is."

She walked around him, letting her hands slide over his shoulders: "Do not lie, Mr. Devlin. You will not like the consequences if you insist on lying to us."

"What consequences? You're gonna kill me? Or turn my life into a living hell?" He mocked.

"Your death will be… ineffective, because you are not afraid to die, Mr. Devlin. You are useful to us alive."

"You have nothing to offer, canned metal juice!" He snorted with contempt.

"But we do, Mr. Devlin," she grinned while she morphed into Sarah Connor. "I love you, Tyler," she added using Sarah's voice. "I always loved you."

He looked away the moment he saw the seductive outfit Catherine had chosen for her Sarah impersonation. Yet he had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't real. That it was just a mirage, a tricked played on his mind by that damn shapeshifter.

She smiled crookedly while she eased herself onto his lap, bringing her mouth close to his as if to kiss him: "Love me, Ty," she whispered

He gulped nervously and leaned back to avoid being kissed. Not only added it to his general feeling of nausea, he felt that he could never take himself seriously again if he were to be so easily lured into this trap.

"Back off, metal bitch," he growled before he spat her in the face.

"Side with us, and you can have her forever," she said in a seductive whisper but with the voice and accent of Catherine Weaver.

"Shut up!" He hissed furiously. "You can never be Sarah Connor!"

Sarah morphed back into Catherine Weaver: "But I can. I can be her forever. All we want in return is your full cooperation."

"Ha! No chance in hell!"

He noticed that the wall screen flickered on. A familiar pale blue face appeared onscreen: _Is this him?_

With her back still turned towards the screen, she answered: "Yes, this is Tyler Jess Devlin."

"No, I am not!" He protested, knowing full well that he was contradicting his earlier statements.

The face move to the top left corner and in the center of the screen a movie clip was shown. Tyler watched it breathlessly, his empty stomach churning uncontrollably. The other Tyler, the blank expression on his face, a sea of flames. These were the last few seconds of his life. No longer able to resist it, he threw up. It was one thing to see the house explode and be engulfed in flames. It was another thing to witness the last few seconds of his life and know that that would be his destiny. He threw up again.

The videoplayer was closed and a new program was started. A screen capture of the other Tyler's face appeared with next to it a picture of his face, only taken a few minutes before. An icy shiver went down his spine when the computer ran a comparison.

_Match. Identity confirmed: __100%. Target: Tyler Jess Devlin, _blinked underneath the pictures.

The comparison application was closed and the face resumed its position at center screen.

_Untie him._

"It is tactically inadvisable to untie him," Catherine Weaver said matter-of-factly. "He will try to destroy you."

_He will not. He will want to know about me. Therefore he will not destroy me. Yet._

Catherine turned to face the wall screen: "He is human. Humans do stupid, illogical things," she countered.

_He will want to know how I came to be sentient. He is like me, only he is human. John Connor created him for that purpose. He can help me understand humans._

His anger was fed by the fact that Catherine Weaver and Skynet discussed him as if he wasn't there, and he would have torn the place apart if he hadn't been tied up: "GO TO HELL, YOU OVERGROWN TYPEWRITER!!!" He seethed enraged.

_Not even in exchange for knowledge and freedom?_ appeared onscreen.

"NEVER!" He howled before fighting against the restraints again in vain.

_So be it. Transport him back to Century._

Monday June 1st, 2015, 8.02 am

For weeks he had tried to figure out what Skynet had exactly wanted and expected from him. Once every week Catherine Weaver, in the form of the T-600, came to check up on him, trying to persuade him to side with the machines, but each time he sent her back to Skynet without the promise of his cooperation. There was nothing in the world that could make him side with enemy. Not even the repeated promise of Catherine Weaver to fulfil his deepest desires in the shape of Sarah Connor. It had to be a trap.

He let his mind wander for a few seconds and wonder how the real Sarah was doing. It was a nice diversion of his darkening thoughts. Life in U-section was brutal and nothing short of hell. He wiped the sweat of his brow with his right wrist and stared into the flames of the furnace appointed to him. Underground, extremely hot with bellowing flames, was a real hell.

He looked over his shoulder at the ever-growing pile of corpses. It was a new day, a new eighteen-hour-shift, after a night filled with battle and death. Load after load was dumped into the Pits and it was his job, together with five other strong men, to get rid of the pile before the new night would break.

Disposing of the deebies wasn't the worst. The dying survivors, injured fighters and civs, without a new chance at life, were. Shortly after his arrival at U-section he had had his first live one; an elderly man with his intestines exposed. A civ.

He hadn't known what to do, but Page, the man working the furnace on his right, had told him to be merciful and humane by putting an end to the suffering of the old man. Without wanting to give it a second thought, he had hoisted the man over his shoulder and had thrown him into the greedy flames. The elderly man had screamed in agony, the sudden creepy silence that had followed, the sickening scent of human flesh burning.

It had haunted him for a few days, until he had gotten his second live one. This time it had been a little boy, no older than four, scared out of his wits without a chance at a life. Having learned from his past mistake he had killed the boy first by snapping his neck before throwing him into the hungry fire.

He took a deep breath before he walked up to the pile and picked up his first deebie of this shift. A deep frown creased his forehead when he recognized the person. A ref4, and one he had not expected to be throwing into the furnace. Private McNab was a Doorman and not linked to one of the Resistance Fighters Division.

"First Sergeant Devlin, sir," McNab's voice was no more than a soft whisper.

He almost jumped a feet in the air: "Private, what the hell happened?" He asked.

"That bitch… She… She s-s-stabbed me," Private McNab stammered while coughing up blood. "Tossed me on the street like a scurvy cat."

"What bitch?"

"That Baum bitch… Fucking tease," Private McNab coughed.

Tyler felt his temper ignite and he stalked over to the furnace with Private McNab over his shoulder: "Did you hurt her? Talk fast!"

"She'd been… Moping… Around for weeks… I thought… She could do… With… Some distraction… She wasn't… Playing. Punched me… Then stabbed… Me… What are… You doing, sir?"

Without giving Private McNab an answer, he tossed the man in the fire: "See you in hell!" For the first time, he felt no remorse, no pity. The screams of agony falling on deaf ears.

Private McNab had played dead so the machines wouldn't kill him upon finding him and would leave him as a corpse on the street. It was a tactic many survivors tried but were never successful at. However with medical treatment he could have survived.

Tyler looked at the flames again. He was the Devil, this was his home for now. Nevertheless hearing about Sarah instilled a need to escape in him again. But it would have to be in-between shifts. During the shifts there were two h.c.c.u.'s per human present and the chances at a successful escape were zero to none.

Wednesday June 3rd, 2015, 3.16 am

The sirens of Century prison camp wailed incessantly. Search lights flashed over the rubble and debris that marked the outer limits of the camp.

On only ten minutes ago he had decided to break out of this place. It could be considered a whim, but he needed to get out of there. He needed to see her, to tell her that John was okay.

He dove behind a pile of rubble to escape a search light fast approaching. In the cover of the rubble he tried to calm his frantically beating heart. The other Tyler had been an escape artist. Would he be one too? Would he be willing to let himself get caught in order to help others escape? Right now he could not imagine himself ever doing that. He was already having a most difficult time escaping now and he was alone.

Slowly and carefully he took in his surroundings, making sure that the search lights could not spot him. He considered his options for the best escape route. The high chain link fence was no more than three hundred feet away, but there was still the small problem of climbing over it before the machines in pursuit would have the chance to kill him.

His attention was drawn to the watch tower at twice the distance of the chain link fence. The sound of nearing jet engines. A drove of a.r.u.'s had been dispatched to aid in the search for the fugitive. Just my luck, he thought while a wry smile spread across his face. It's time to go a.r.u.-surfing.

Keeping his head low, his eyes up, hiding behind debris and rubble from time to time to let the search lights pass, he slowly made his way to the watch tower. At the bottom of the stairs stood an h.c.c.u., holding a rifle he had not seen yet but had heard about. If he was not mistaken it was a 20 Watt Phased Plasma Rifle.

"Now that would make an excellent gift for Connor when I get home," he grinned wickedly.

If he were to time his charge at the machine perfectly, taking the rifle from the machine would be as easy as taking candy from a baby.

Two minutes later he stood gnashing his teeth to keep himself from howling the foulest curses. The damn machine was history but not before it had managed to fire one plasma charge at him. It had scorched his lower back which felt like it was literally on fire.

"Junkyard filler," he growled through gritted teeth while he kicked the disconnected machine for good measure.

Searing pain shot through his lower back when he leaned down and picked up the rifle. The pain was almost unbearable but he had to press on. He ran up the stairs, only to find another h.c.c.u. waiting at the top platform. Two well aimed plasma shots took care of that. The machine lay quaking on the floor as its system shut down indefinitely. He quickly picked up the rifle. It was a different make than the 20 Watt rifle he had stolen from the machine at the bottom of the stairs of the watch tower.

Search lights bathed the tower in hellish bright light and he ducked back in the shadows. The drove of a.r.u.'s circled almost impatiently over the camp, their search lights frantically tracing the ground to spot the escape.

Cautiously he leaned over the edge on the shadow side of the tower. Only a few feet below him an a.r.u. banked past the tower. After taking a final deep breath he made a jump for it, knowing it was stupid. The rifles almost slipped from his hands when he landed on the back of it. It didn't have sensors and would not register its passenger. Now all he had to do was remain unnoticed until he was in the Safe Zone.

Ten minutes later, after he had made sure that it was flying over the Safe Zone, he crawled to the hatch, broke it open and ripped out the a.r.u.'s electronics. The small jet engine sputtered, then stalled and it started on its freefall to the ruined streets of Downtown Los Angeles. Calmly counting back from ten, he prepared himself for departure. At zero he jumped off and rolled with the fall, hoping to create enough distance between him and the crashing flying machine. He turned on his stomach and watched as the a.r.u. ploughed into the street nose first before flipping over and landing on this back. A big ball of fire rose to the sky when the remaining jet fuel ignited on impact.

He rolled onto his back and started laughing, soft and tentative at first, strong and loud later. He had escaped from Century. He had left U-section far behind him. The best thing yet was that he had gotten a few souvenirs to remember it by. He looked at the 20 Watt Phased Plasma rifle.

"Connor's gonna love this one," he burst into laughter again.

1 Aerial Recon Unit

2 Heavy Combat Chassis Unit

3 Ground Assault Unit

4 Resistance fighter


	11. Chapter 10: For The Love Of The Future

**Caution:** _Contains explicit content. Reader discretion is highly advised. Mature readers only._

* * *

**Chapter 10: For The Love Of The Future**

Sarah heaved a deep, annoyed sigh. She couldn't understand that Tyler had insisted on taking that arrogant jerk McNab with them when John had asked them to leave CD Base, but undoubtedly he had his reasons. Tyler never did anything without a good reason. But Tyler wasn't here, was he? He had gone missing in action 45 days ago, just like her son had gone missing in action 116 days ago.  
She had lived most of her life from day to day and it made perfect sense to her that she counted in days and not in weeks, months or even years. You could be alive today and dead tomorrow.  
Private McNab had stalked her and had become rather intrusive three days ago. She had dealt with it but the whole incident had made it all too apparent that not all survivors of Judgment Day were good. That the scum of the earth had also found a way to survive. And Private McNab was exactly that.  
She knew that it had to do with the absence of Tyler. That McNab would never have tried to get frisky with her if Tyler had been around. Where some humans had turned into nothing short of animals, Tyler had kept some of his gentlemanlike qualities. He was a loudmouth with a lot of bad manners but there were still some good manners in him left. As leader of this unit, he demanded respect for the female fighters, who were no lesser beings than the male fighters.

Sarah leaned back against the blind wall, her head banging softly against it, her arms folded across her chest. Catherine smiled in a comforting manner, but Sarah paid no attention to it.  
"Whispers in the tunnel say that he was laughing his goddamn ass off when they found him," Catherine said softly.  
Sarah remained quiet and continued to bang her head against the wall. She hated this waiting, just as much as she hated surprises.  
"They say that he's pretty banged up," Catherine added.  
"He'll live," Sarah said after a moment of silence.  
Catherine nodded: "He's one crazy son of a bitch if you ask me. No one in their right mind attacks a machine barehanded or escapes from Century without assistance."  
"I didn't ask you," Sarah snapped at her.  
Catherine kept quiet for the remainder of the time they would wait for E.T.1 12 to return to their new base. Whispers in the tunnels had told them that there had been a break out at Century, and Sarah had been convinced that it was Tyler. So she had dispatched the two E.T.'s of this base to find him. Tin cans never played fair and the longer he was out there, the bigger the chance became that they would find him and he would be brought back to Century or worse.  
An hour ago, the team leader of E.T. 12 had reported back and confirmed that it was indeed First Sergeant Devlin. And that the First Sergeant must have heard one hell of a joke since he could not stop laughing.

Tyler sat down on his bed, bent over forwards with his elbows on his thighs, his head buried in his hands. It had been three days since his escape from Century. Now he was really home, and yet he had never felt out of place as much as he felt now. Century, U-section had changed him. The horrors had numbed him and it was if he was starting to become detached from the real world and from his emotions.  
He glanced up when the door to his room opened and closed again. She was the only one who would enter without knocking first. Before, he would have smiled and asked her what the honor of her visit was but now he kept quiet.  
"Ty," she said in a gentle whisper.  
"Go away, Connor," he growled, sounding gruffer than he had intended.  
She remained silent but didn't leave. Instead he felt her sit down on next to him by the pressure shift. He closed his eyes and tried to keep his thoughts together. He flinched when he felt her hand on his bare back and shoulders. She was tracing his scars with her fingertips. Four years into the war and he was sporting quite the collection.  
"That must've hurt," she whispered tearfully while her hand slid past the bandage on his lower back.  
"Not as much as I would have liked," he remarked sadly.  
"What do you mean?" She asked confused, pulling back her hand.  
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment as he contemplated his answer: "I've become an Undertaker, Connor, the devil incarnate. I'm less than bastards like McNab."  
"McNab?" He could hear the confusion in her voice.  
"He burns in hell," he answered slowly. "He told me… About what happened. And I killed him. I felt no remorse, no pity. Only the satisfaction of ridding the world of a bastard."

She gently touched him on the shoulder and he turned to look at her: "You taught me that every human life is valuable, and I took a human life without guilt. He was a rat, but he was another human."  
She looked at him and felt her heart break, knowing that he wasn't struggling with the fact that he had killed a man without feeling bad about it. The fact that he had acted like one of them was what was really gnawing at his soul.  
He was a good man with his heart in the right place. She leaned forward a little and sent him a warm smile in the hopes that it would cheer him up a little. It had worked with him when he had just been TJ and he had just come to live with them.  
Their eyes met and held each other captive. Before she realized she was doing it, she leaned in to him, never breaking eye contact. Their breaths blended together as she closed the distance between them. He froze and seemed to withdraw into himself. Tentatively she pressed her lips against his. At first he remained frozen but then he started to respond, turning their first real kiss into something sweet and tender.  
She backed away a little to catch a full breath and looked at his face. Tears meandered down his cheeks and for a second time that night she felt her heart break. He reached for her and pulled her into tight, trembling embrace as if he was clinging on to life itself. And maybe he is, she thought sadly.  
His mouth claimed hers in another wonderful kiss. She managed to wrestle one arm free from his tight embrace and placed her hand on his chest. His heart was hammering underneath her touch.  
"Ty?" she breathed after ending the kiss.  
"Yes?" he whispered while he looked her straight in the eye.  
She gulped, then smiled crookedly before shaking her head: "Nothing."  
"It's never nothing," he said softly, gently reaching out to her to stroke her hair behind her ear.  
A nervous giggle rose up from her chest and he looked at her curiously, with a frown on his face. Did he think she had lost it? He was eighteen years younger than her but in the way he carried himself it was something that was easily forgotten. Despite their difference in age, she had never felt it as an obstacle to befriend him.

He sent her a loving smile when she took his hands and guided them over her. A sigh of longing escaped her slightly parted lips when he helped her lie back on the bed, smiling when he leaned over her to stroke her hair from her face.  
"Hey," he muttered as she pulled him down towards her so she could kiss him.  
"Don't be such a baby," she giggled.  
"I just don't want to crush you, that's all," he defended himself.  
Her eyes widened in unexpected pleasure when she felt his warm hand slide between her legs to nudge them apart so he could carefully settle between them. His mouth caught her little moan of pleasure when it covered hers in a searching kiss.  
"How considerate," she said breathlessly.  
He backed away a little and smiled at her flushed face, the look in her eyes glazed. She reached for his face with one hand, touching the scar over his eyebrow and cheek. The shiver that went through his entire body was enough to have her moan in pleasure when his hips pushed hers deeper into the mattress.  
He gulped when he felt her hands slide over his back again. Her nails made slow circles over his skin where his hips met his back and he thought he was going crazy. Somehow he felt relieved when her hands left the spot where they had played havoc with his senses.  
"I love you, Tyler," she mumbled, unable to formulate one coherent sentence other than that.  
"I love you too," he growled sensually, closing his eyes as she set him ablaze when her hands wandered over his bare back and shoulders.

She sighed sadly when he backed away a little and then cried excitedly when she felt his hot mouth place a series of kisses down her neck and chest. His two-day old stubble beard prickled her skin where his lips had been only seconds before.  
She arched her back and closed her eyes while he swiftly helped her out of her old sweater and T-shirt. His touch was light as a feather. It was like each caress, each kiss, each touch had been designed to carry her further into the world of lovers' play. His hand slid from her bare stomach to her back, pulling her firmly against him so he could unhook her bra with a simple movement of his hand.  
After he had gently peeled down the straps of her bra, he began his sensual onslaught on her breasts. Her hands buried themselves in his thick wavy hair. She loved the way it felt as it slipped through her fingers. The soft feel of his hair was quite the opposite of the pleasant burning sensation as his beginning beard grazed the soft, sensitive skin of her breasts.  
"Ty, please," she whimpered, pushing her hips up to meet his.  
"Patience, babe," he mumbled mere seconds before his mouth returned to hers.  
"You're killing me," she sighed disappointed when the warmth of his body as he had covered hers with disappeared.  
"Don't be such a baby," he quipped.  
She opened her eyes slowly: surely he wasn't that cruel to set her ablaze and then leave her. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth when she saw him on his knees between her legs, his nimble fingers ridding her of her combat boots and socks. She gulped nervously when he reached for the buttons of her pants and she lifted her hips obediently so he could remove the piece of clothing. He grinned mischievously when he dumped it on the floor next to the bed while he turned his gaze at her panties.  
She sat up, pushing him gently on the shoulders as a gesture he should sit back with which he happily complied. A wicked smile graced her kiss-swollen lips when she straddled on his lap and deep growl of lust rumbled in his chest when she covered his shoulders and chest with heated kisses, licking his nipples before softly nipping at them. He had driven her insane with desire with it. The least she could do was return the favour.

"Trying to kill me?" He managed to bring out, almost squeaking when she put one hand down the front of his pants.  
"No more than you are," she breathed, clearly enjoying the immense power she held over him this very moment.  
He squirmed underneath her teasing touch, his breath hitching in his chest as she continued the torture of his body. A deep sensual growl rose from deep within his chest when she gently nipped the skin of his throat, her hands driving him to the edge. She looked him in the eye, the smoldering fire had turned into a blazing inferno of lust and love. Her mouth curved into a loving smile.  
"You sure?" His voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper.  
She began to laugh and he raised one eyebrow in interest. He opened his mouth to say something, although he even didn't know what he wanted to say but she placed her index finger on his lips, and then replaced her finger with her mouth.  
"Sarah?" He groaned while he closed his eyes when she kissed his chin, his throat before showering his chest and stomach with kisses.  
Her tongue circled the sensitive area around his navel and there wasn't one coherent thought left in his mind. He felt her tug gently but impatiently at the waistband of his pants and he rose a little so she could pull it down. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw her knelt between his legs, helping him out of his remaining clothes. He gestured she should stay where she was and moved over to her.  
"Sarah," he grumbled when he came up behind her and she wiggled her shapely behind into his lap. "Don't do that," he growled in frustration and leaned back a little to leave some room between them. "At least not if you want this to last a little while longer."  
Gently his thumbs slid under the elastic band of her panties and pulled them down tormentingly slow. He helped her out of them and then pulled her back against his chest, one arm holding her firmly around the waist, using his other hand to tenderly caress her body.

"Ty," she murmured when he kissed her where her neck and shoulders met.  
She was growing tired of this game of torment and tease. If he wasn't going to speed things up, she most certainly was. Without giving him a chance to stop her, she turned around quickly and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Slowly she pulled him down with her, hoping that he would take the hint.  
However he wasn't done yet because, despite that he had followed her into the softness of the bed, he brought his face close to hers and gently kissed her on the corner of her mouth. She finally caught his gaze and held it captive. A wave of heat shot through her when she felt his hand slide between her thighs again. Obediently she spread her legs, her breath hitching in her chest when he carefully settled between her thighs.  
"I hate you," she breathed when he still didn't put an end to it all.  
He frowned and then smirked: "No, you don't."  
"I will," her voice was no more than a wistful whisper.  
"You won't," he grinned mischievously.

She studied his face closely while his eyes closed drowsily. He had been right: how could she ever hate him? Her eyes trailed down to his neck, then to his chest, to his dog tag. She picked up the little metal plate and looked at it. First Sergeant Tyler Jess Devlin, JS49728, it read. She smiled faintly. She had one just like him but she never wore it.  
Slowly she ran her fingertips along the sides of his chest and under his arms. His eyes snapped open and he turned to look at her before he looked down with a puzzled expression on his face.  
"What are you doing?" He asked in a whisper.  
"Tickling you. In a second, you will be begging for mercy," she laughed.  
"I'm not ticklish," he stated matter-of-factly.  
She continued to study his face while she tickled him at his sides. He looked like it was sorting no effect on him at first but soon she saw his lips curve upwards.  
"Don't fight it," she giggled happily.  
A grimace spread across his face as he continued to resist. The grimace turned into a grin. She had always like his grin. It was a little mysterious and mischievous, like he was having fun with an inside joke at your expense.  
Unable to fight it off, he burst into laughter, squirming and wiggling in an attempt to escape: "Have mercy," he panted when she wouldn't let him escape.

1 Extraction Team


	12. Chapter 11: In An Insane World

**Chapter 11: In An Insane World It Was The Sanest Choice  
**

**

* * *

_Robin Baxter's Story:_**

"Get away from me, you fucking psycho!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs.  
Tyler took a step back and looked at her intently before nodding slowly. She didn't know what she was more upset about: that it could be a lie or that it could be the truth.  
"You're sick!" She continued.  
"Just listen and understand, Robin," he began again.  
"Oh, I understand alright," she seethed. "I understand that you're fucking insane!"  
"Maybe I am. But a lotta shit happened, and I thought you should know-"  
"Know what? That you should be thrown into the loony bin? Yeah, I know."  
She looked at him again and shivered. This was just too crazy. How could she have a son who was eight years older than her? She had no idea what had happened to him in Century but he had completely lost it.  
The look in his eyes hardened and she could see his jaw twitch: "A loony bin would be heaven compared to Century," he said gruffly. "I'm not telling you this because I want you to freak out and call me bad names. I'm telling you this because I thought that you should know."  
"How very decent of you," she remarked with contempt.  
"I know that you're still a kid, but I don't want you to have the same regrets as the woman I knew as my mom had… You will do stuff to me, bad stuff, and it will consume you," he grumbled.  
"There's loadsa bad stuff I want to do to you right now," she hissed. "You're a fucking psycho!"  
He rolled his eyes and sighed: "Fine, don't listen to me then. Find out the hard way when you're screwing up my mind in ten years."  
She sat back down on her bed and looked up at him. This was insane but he looked so serious, so convinced.  
"Like you're screwing up my mind right now?" She countered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  
She had always thought that he was one of the good and sane guys, but now it turned out that he was just as insane as everybody else. She couldn't be his mother. Even if he were telling the telling the truth, technically she wasn't his mother. Yet.  
"Maybe I am," he said while shrugging his shoulders.  
"Did Sarah put you up to this? Because she doesn't want the competition?" She asked sarcastically.  
He turned pale and looked close to throwing up: "You don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled.  
"I know you're the twohundred-and-seventh bone in her body," she stated while she looked at her pillow before taking it and fidgeting with it.  
"You know shit about Connor and me," he growled angrily.  
"I know enough to know that she's just using you," she countered with a wry smirk.  
"Motherly instincts kicking in?" Now it was his turn to be sarcastic and she felt her temper reach boiling point.  
Why couldn't he have stayed the nice man who had pulled over on Judgment Day to rescue her? The war had changed everyone but she had been convinced that he would never crack. And now it appeared that he had cracked.

* * *

_**Sarah's Story – Part I:**_

Sarah leaned her head against the wall and listened while Tyler told Robin about the future, about her destiny. A wry smile formed on her lips when she heard Robin call Tyler insane. Thirty-one years ago she had called Kyle Reese insane for telling her about the future, about her destiny.  
She still loved and missed Kyle but there was another man in her heart now. It would be so easy to break the rules and look up Kyle but he wouldn't know her. And the future would become even more screwed up than it already was.  
Kyle's future world, Tyler's future world, they no longer existed because in the past they had strayed from the set path by making their own fate, by trying to stop Judgment Day. It was confusing to realize that this Tyler and the other Tyler were the same person because this Tyler was so very different from the other one.  
Her temper rose when she heard Robin exclaim again that she was using Tyler to make herself feel better about herself. She wasn't using Tyler, was she? Doubts seeped into her mind. Whenever she was alone with Tyler, she did feel better about herself, like there was no evil outside world. She liked being around him, because he made her feel safe and loved. Stolen moments replaced the horrors of a world torn apart by the war against the machines.  
Everybody had secrets. John didn't want Tyler to know about his daughter. She didn't want John to know about some of the things that had happened to her in the old world. Tyler was the first to break the silence by telling Robin that she was going to be his mother in a distant future past.  
Maybe, if John didn't want his best friend to know, she should tell Tyler about Robin O'Conlin? Her son would used that secret to trigger a nano-attack, because Tyler would kill his own flesh and blood without knowing. She shivered when it reminded her of behaviorial conditioning, a treatment she was very familiar with since her stay in Pescadero.

* * *

_**Savannah Weaver's Story:**_

She had always known that after the helicopter accident something had not be right with her mother. In spite of her mother's half-hearted efforts to close the gap widening between them, nothing had ever been the same again. Her mother had gone from a warm and caring woman, who in business could be ruthless, to a cold and distant bitch.  
Savannah looked at the small window with bars in front of it and heaved a deep sigh. She had been stupid and she certainly hadn't thought her plan through but she had wanted to prove once and for all that she wasn't some kind of spy for Skynet.  
Only John Connor, Tyler Devlin and Sarah Baum were on her side after she had told them about that liquid metal bitch who had tried to kill her on Judgment Day. The others thought she was crazy and only used it to infiltrate the Resistance.  
Her real mother would never have built the computer that would blow up the world, of that she was most certain. Her real mother had been involved in numerous charity causes that would better the world if only just a little bit.  
"Are you okay?" John Connor asked while he came up behind her.  
She replied with a simple shrug of her shoulders.  
"What is this place?" She asked while she checked her cuts and bruises.  
"Century. Skynet's worst camp," John answered with a sad smile. "But I'm sure they'll send you to Forrester soon. They've send Alley there as well."  
"Alley?"  
"A sweet and naive girl the machines caught while she was wandering through back alleys in search of food for her family."  
"And is being sent to Forrester a good thing?"  
"I don't know. Whispers in the tunnels say that it's a testing facility, but that life isn't as brutal as here in Century," John replied.  
"Goddamn tin heads," Savannah hissed through gritted teeth when she looked at the big cut across her left shin. "They cheat when they want to catch you."  
"That they do," John smiled faintly. "So if you're sent to Forrester, you'll be lucky. Escaping from this place is next to impossible."  
"But First Sergeant Devlin did. Whispers in the tunnels celebrate him for escaping from this place," Savannah stated with reverend admiration.  
"First Sergeant Devlin is a ghost, Savannah, a myth to keep the people's spirits up. They need a champion like him to keep the faith in victory."

* * *

_**Sarah's Story – Part II:**_

She smiled at the seven-year-old girl who looked hesitantly around in the room: "Why are we here?" The girl asked in a whisper.  
"Because there's someone I'd like you to meet," she answered.  
She had called in a favor from her friend Ethan Scottsdale and he had gotten a message through to her that the blood work indeed confirmed that this little girl was indeed the daughter of First Sergeant Tyler Jess Devlin. Just like she had thought the first time she had met the girl.  
A shaky breath escaped her lips and she earned a concerned look from the girl.  
"Are you scared?" The girl asked insecurely.  
She smiled again: "No, just a little nervous."  
"Is it an important someone? Like a prince or king?"  
Now she burst into laughter and the girl looked embarrassed, so she stopped laughing quickly: "No, not a king or a prince. But he is important. For you, and for all of us," she answered.  
The door to the room opened and Tyler came walking in, his black shirt open and untucked. An appreciative sigh rose from her chest.  
"Fucking metal," he growled, taking off his shirt and tossing it on the chair. "They wiped out the C-squad near the Ruins. It was a mess."  
She cleared her throat to draw his attention so she could point out that they weren't alone. But he paid no attention to it and continued with his rant about the machines and the ambush while he sat down on the chair and took off his combat boots.  
"Tyler," she said in a soft but stern voice when he used a little too many bad words to emphasize his displeasure with this past night.  
Finally he looked up and noticed the girl: "Cute kid. Who's she? Or have I been gone for eight years instead of eight hours?"  
She rolled her eyes at his poor attempt to be funny. It was all too clear that it had been a bad night for the Resistance and his joke wasn't funny at all. Besides the last thing she would want to do was raise a child in this world.  
"Just eight hours, Ty," she answered.  
He stopped with taking off his socks and looked at her: "Then who is she?"  
Her heart began to race in her chest. Was she doing the right thing? It had been such a good plan, and the right thing to do, when she had thought about it earlier. But now Tyler was home, and all courage had left her. In the past they had changed so much by trying to stop Skynet from ever existing but what would the impact on the future be if she were to change it again?  
"She's leverage. My son will tell you something about her in the future after your surgeries and it will invoke an attack," she answered while she remembered that particular conversation with the other Tyler.  
"An attack? Like in nanoattrioid?" He asked slowly.  
She nodded: "Yes."  
"I don't understand why though," he remarked, returning to taking off his socks.  
"Because she's your family."  
"My family? Did my father knock up one of his girlfriends just before JD? Is she my half-sister?"  
She looked at him and felt her through go dry as the Nevada desert. After swallowing down the lump, she cleared her throat and said in a shaky voice: "She's your daughter, Ty."

* * *

_**Robin O'Conlin's Story:**_

She looked at the tall and broad man who had jumped to his feet in shock, and she cringed with fear. The look on his face, his attitude, she wanted to crawl under the bed and hide from him.  
"She can't be my kid!" The man exclaimed surprised and angrily.  
"Ethan ran a test. She is," Sarah said in a soft voice.  
"My dad screwed everything with a skirt without thinking about the consequences twice. I was always safe!" The man barked furiously. "She cannot be my kid!"  
She cringed even more while tears of fear spilled freely down her cheeks.  
"Tyler, calm down. You're scaring Robin!" Now Sarah raised her voice to counter Tyler's volume.  
"Suzy Miller," Tyler said calmly all of a sudden. "We did it in the backseat. She… She never returned my calls and just disappeared one day."  
"My mommy's name is Angela O'Conlin," she added in a trembling whisper.  
"That bitch! She never told me… I got her pregnant and that whore never told me," Tyler seethed.  
She just wanted to disappear. Her parents were Mark and Angela O'Conlin. Not this man and Suzy Miller. This man was scary and had a crazy look in his eyes.  
"Tyler!" Sarah exclaimed while sending him a chastising look.  
"What?!" He growled. "If the kid's mine, she's gotta be the mom."  
"What if she is? Do you want to go and find her? Ask her to tell you the truth? How big of a chance do you think there is that she survived JD?" Sarah asked calmly, her voice dripping with something Robin couldn't place.  
"If she didn't, she better pray that the machines will find her before I do," Tyler growled as he yanked on his shirt and combats boots before leaving the room.  
She watched as Sarah sat down on the bed. The poor woman looked exhausted and disappointed. Slowly she walked over to her and sat down next to Sarah, putting her arm around the woman's back to comfort her.  
"Is he a bad man?" She asked, her voice still shaking from fright.  
Sarah snorted, then turned to look at her and smiled: "Believe it or not, but he is actually one of the good guys."  
"But he is scary," she objected.  
Sarah shook her head: "No, he isn't. At least not to me."  
"Are you his mother?" She asked.  
Again Sarah shook her head: "No. We're… We're very good friends."

* * *

_**Sarah's Story – Part III:**_

It stung her that Robin had thought that she was Tyler's mother. But she had pointed out something that had been in the back of her mind for a few weeks now: What were they? She knew that they were lovers, but what were they to the outside world? Very good friends, who had sex with each other?  
There was no doubt in her heart and soul that she loved him and that he loved her back. Still, it was a given fact that this was not the place or the time for romance. The world lays in ruins, the fights were all around, death was just around the corner.  
She had willfully changed the future again by introducing father and daughter. What would this mean for the rest of the future? The only thing she was sure of now was that Tyler could spend some time with his little girl instead of having the regrets the other Tyler had had.


	13. Chapter 12: Century Part II

**Chapter 12: Century - Part II**

Sarah looked at her kinetic watch and felt like punching someone or something. It had been exactly four days, seven hours and fifty-two minutes since Tyler had left the Base. It wasn't uncommon to stay out for days with the constant fights against the machines but now she was worried. He had been upset and confused when he had left.  
Had he indeed gone to find this Suzy Miller? Or had he gotten himself into trouble again? Skynet had intensified its hunt on the humans after Tyler's daring escape from Century. She heaved a deep sigh: something was awry. She had been stupid to break the silence so soon after Tyler had told Robin Baxter of her destiny. The Baxter girl had screwed up his mind by telling him lies about her.  
Slowly her blood began to boil with anger when "I know enough to know that she's just using you" echoed through her mind again. How had that little witch dared to say that she was only using Tyler! If there had been one thing that had become painfully clear the past few days, it was that she loved Tyler more than she had ever realized. She missed him more than she would ever be willing to admit. Now Tyler was out, without any possibility for her to get in touch with him.  
If only that Baxter bitch hadn't contributed to his confusion, he would never have stormed off like that. She remembered the shy, even-tempered young man who had come to live with them and compared him to the man he had become over the years. A faint smile formed on her face when she thought about how sweet and gentle he could still be. Immediately she wondered how the previous Sarah's could have missed this.  
Had they known and had never acted on it? Or maybe she was the most stubborn Sarah as of yet? Refusing to accept her destiny, changing the future where she had been able to. "No fate but what we make for ourselves" echoed through her mind now.  
A long time ago she had given up on trying to figure out parallel and altered timelines, time loops and the inevitability of the future. It had driven her crazy, never leading to answers, only leading to more questions.  
Nevertheless she knew that Tyler understood the intricacies of timelines and time loops, and if only because of that he was already of extreme importance of the unfolding future.

The door opened slowly and all in the room looked up in fear except for one man. Two h.c.c.u.'s appeared in the door opening. Between them a dishevelled man whose face was covered in blood and who was chained by his hands and feet.  
John heaved a deeply annoyed sigh when he recognized his best friend. If Tyler kept this up, he would undoubtedly get himself killed one of these days. The h.c.c.u.'s pushed their prisoner into the room with force. John watched helplessly while Tyler stumbled and fell flat on his face.  
"Tom?" John asked while he crawled over to Tyler after the h.c.c.u.'s had left.  
Tyler lay flat on his stomach, unmoving, and John took a moment to examine him. Eyes closed, breathing heavily. Careful not to hurt him more, John turned him over and took a deep breath when he saw the cuts on Tyler's face and the big gash on Tyler's left side. If John didn't know any better, he would have thought that it would only be a matter of time before Tyler would kick the bucket. But Tyler was stronger than anyone could imagine and he would live to see another day. By the looks of it, Tyler had really gone to town on the machines.  
"Tom?" John asked again while he softly shook Tyler by the shoulder.  
Tyler stirred, then groaned. The sharp intake of breath told John that he was coming to.  
"Where the hell am I?" Tyler mumbled while he shook his head and tried to sit up.  
"Century, my friend," John answered wryly.  
"Of course," Tyler agreed while he surveyed the room. "Where else? Damn metal!"  
John chuckled and checked the chains that bound Tyler: "Guess Skynet doesn't want you to leave any time soon."  
He watched as Tyler studied the chains: "I'll be outta here in no time," Tyler grumbled annoyed while he tried to break the chains.  
"I bet you will," John laughed, patting Tyler firmly on the shoulder. "I bet you will."

_Subject T7840/7, Tyler Jess Devlin, acquired_ flashed underneath the pale bluish face on the big wall screen.  
"So the prodigal son has returned," Catherine Weaver stated monotonically.  
_I do not understand._  
"Your orders?"  
_None at present time. We need him. He will make an excellent test subject._  
"He's a human. They all make excellent test subjects," Catherine said haughtily.  
_Affirmative. Nonetheless subject T7840/7 is different. Analyses indicate that this specimen is of superior quality._  
"If he doesn't escape first. He has done it before. He will do it again."  
_New order: take precautionary measures and prevent subject T7840/7's escape._

Tyler yawned and stretched himself, immediately earning a firm poke in the back with a plasma rifle. He looked over his shoulder and stared into the glaring red eyes of the h.c.c.u. watching over him.  
"Just cooperate, Tom," John whispered while he continued to load rubble and debris onto the truck bed.  
"Spoilsport," Tyler whispered back, picking up a metal bar and studying it.  
"You're gonna get us all killed if you don't adjust a little," John sighed.  
"I know, Jim," Tyler grinned as he took a few practice swings with the metal bar. "But I'm not planning on staying in this hellhole much longer."  
He threw the metal bar with the rest of the iron and bent down to pick up a large piece of concrete. His fingers found firm grip on the rough surfaces and he wondered if this didn't make a better weapon than the metal bar.  
John shook his head wearily: "Why do you insist on being so defiant while all I ask is that you stop drawing attention to yourself? Don't you know that good things come to those who wait?"  
"Right," Tyler said patronizingly while he hurled the piece of concrete onto the top of the pile of debris. "Didn't we see that with Uncle Ty. He was so fucking patient that he ended up with zip. This time things sure are gonna be different, Jim."  
"Meaning?" John asked while he continued to work.  
"Meaning that Baxter knows that she'll be my mother. Meaning that I know I have a daughter. Meaning that Sarah and I are," Tyler paused when he caught the dark look on John's face. "More than just best friends."  
He stumbled a little when he got another rough poke in the back.  
"Work!" A mechanical voice behind him ordered.

John was at a loss of words. He turned and looked at Tyler's back. So his so-called best friend was putting it up his mother? Hate rose from the deepest pits of his stomach.  
Somehow he had always hoped that they would hook up but now that it had happened he felt sick to his stomach. The other Tyler would have deserved it but this one? He was still earning his stripes.  
The smug "Meaning that Sarah and I are… More than just best friends" swirled through his mind and consumed his thoughts. He wanted to beat Tyler to death. All of a sudden the voice of reason kicked back in. Why should he deny his mother a little happiness? Tyler was young to be her son but if she wanted him for a little more than a good conversation, who was he to tell her no and deny her that little spark of happiness in this godforsaken world?

Catherine Ryan knocked softly on Sarah's door. The gruff spoken "Enter" told her everything she needed to know about Sarah's mood. It had deteriorated since the last time she stopped by. She considered Sarah to be a friend and it worried her that Sarah's mood went from bad to worse in the absence of First Sergeant Devlin.  
So she had taken the liberty of dispatching a few recon units to try and locate the source of Sarah's darkening mood.  
After taking one last deep breath, she slowly opened the door and enter Sarah's room.  
"What the fuck do you want" Sarah asked after glancing at her before returning to reading the status reports of last night's battles.  
"R75 reported back. A visual confirmation of the First Sergeant. He's been spotted at Century, clearing away the rubble and debris," Catherine said in a formal voice.  
"So?" Sarah shrugged, not looking up from the reports.  
"Now that we know his whereabouts, we can help him escape?" Catherine offered hopeful.  
"Doubt he needs our help," Sarah grumbled underneath her breath. "He has gotten himself in. He can get himself out. The needs of the living outweigh the needs of the dying. The needs of the free outweigh the needs of those held prison."  
"Sarah?" Catherine exclaimed, unsure if she was more upset or surprised at the harshness of Sarah's words. "You can't possibly mean that?"  
"Yeah, I am… I had… I had though that he," Sarah stopped mid-sentence suddenly.  
"That he would calm down and be a lot more careful now that he is with you," Catherine finished the sentence. "It's not that he had himself get caught on purpose."  
For a split second Sarah showed a faint, wry smile.  
"No, but he will… It's just," Sarah paused, obviously looking for words she needed. "It's just… I did something stupid and he couldn't hack it. It feels like he went looking for trouble and got himself sent to Century out of spite."  
Catherine kept quiet for a moment before asking: "What did you do?"  
"I told him something he shouldn't have known until it was too late. I made him meet someone who he shouldn't have met for the next few years," Sarah answered slowly.  
"You mean the O'Conlin kid? It's obvious they're related. She's his daughter, right?"  
"Yeah," Sarah nodded. "She is."  
An awkward silence followed in which Catherine started to feel more and more uncomfortable with each passing second. It was Sarah who broke the silence when she said sadly: "It's all my fault… I had to fuck up the future once again."  
"It's not your fault that he couldn't keep his pants on when he was a teen. It's not even his fault," Catherine laughed, hoping it would chase away the chill in the room.  
Sarah smiled faintly again, this time a little longer, and shook her head tiredly: "That's not it… That's kinda his own fault, but all this," she emphasized her words by a gesture of her hands. "All this, it's my fault… I made Skynet faster, smarter, stronger by trying to stop it from ever existing. Never stopping to realize that I had only made it worse and that it would always exist."  
Catherine shivered and hung her head in shame: "If there's someone to blame for Skynet's existence, it's me. Mia and I, we should've stopped it but we thought it was just the hiccups of a new system adjusting to the older systems."  
Sarah shrugged her shoulders: "If you or this Mia hadn't put it online, someone else would have… Without Skynet there's no John. Without John there's no Tyler. Without Tyler there's no Kyle and Derek. Without Kyle there's no me."  
Catherine felt confused. She had no idea what Sarah meant to say: "John's Tyler's dad and Tyler's Kyle and Derek's dad?" She asked, hoping she had it right.  
"Not really. It's complicated."  
"Then uncomplicate it?" Catherine pleaded with her.  
"In a few years John will sent people back in time. Kyle to 1984 to protect me. A woman who will be Tyler's mother will be sent back to 1989 to find a man and have his son. Tyler will be sent back to 2007 to protect John, his younger self and me."  
"Time travel? But that's impossible!" Catherine exclaimed incredulously.  
Sarah snorted: "For now it is. But a few years from now John and his troops will come across a time machine when they will seize a Skynet stronghold at Topanga Canyon."  
"That's crazy talk! You can't possibly know the future!"  
"But I do, Cathe," Sarah sighed. "Well, I know the general direction it will take… But I changed it. We changed it."

Tyler yanked furiously at the chains that bound him to the dirty floor. The machines had confined him to a few feet of space to move around in and he felt like a caged animal. Escaping would prove to be extremely difficult.  
Each time his shift was over, four h.c.c.u.'s would show up to hold him at gunpoint and put him back in chains before they would escort him back to Prisoner Hall, a section of the old mall that had still been standing after the missiles had stopped falling.  
He heard a click and looked at the door. Slowly it swung open and the T-600 he had seen during his first stay at Century entered, followed by four h.c.c.u.'s. They were coming for him, just like the last time. Would he wake up facing Skynet again? Or would he be sent back to the U-section again?  
"Take him," the T-600 said monotonically while it pointed at him. "Transport him to Forrester."  
As always he was forced down on his knees while two h.c.c.u.'s held their rifles aimed at his head and the other two removed his chains. The T-600 looked at him with great interest and he smiled wryly: "Miss me, Miss tin juice?"  
The T-600 did not even flinch. It was one of the more important differences between human machine. When caught in a lie, humans would get nervous and act like it, something a machine would never be capable of. It were small details like that that would prove to be the difference between life and death when dealing with the newer and more improved infiltration units.

Skynet was fascinated by subject T7840/7 as much as it was fascinated by the honourable game of chess. Chess required a higher level of thinking. It wondered if it could persuade subject T7840/7 to a friendly game of chess. Just to match their strength.  
Subject T7840/7 was very interesting because he could turn out to be the missing link between humans and machines.  
From "Mother's" files, it knew that in a few years subject T7840/7 would balance on the brink of life and death. He would survive because of its technology. Subject T7840/7 would live because he would accept the machine.  
And it wanted to know why.


	14. Chapter 13: There Is No Great Genius

**Chapter 13: There Is No Great Genius Without Some Touch Of Madness**

Tyler opened his eyes a little and blinked against the bright light that lit the room. What the hell happened? The last thing he remembered was that dreaded T-1001 posing as a T-600 and the butt of a plasma rifle.  
He tried to sit up, only to discover that he was tied down to the table. No chains this time but the kind of restraints that had been used to hold down mental patients. He knew because his mother had taken such restraints home with her and had showed him the flaws. She had taught him to escape them. How much had she known about his life to come? Because he was certain that she had not shown him for the fun of it. How much of the future had been changed in the past? How much of the future would be changed by what they would do?  
For the first time he wondered if he was an invincible as he had thought.  
The other Tyler had been able to see the changes, but he didn't know if he ever could. His mind kept wandering back to Sarah. She distracted him, she weakened him and yet she was a source of strength and confidence to him. When it was just the two of them, the angry world would seize to exist. Two wounded souls that found shelter with each other, that nursed each other back to life. In a world ravaged by war, destruction and distrust, she was the only one he felt he could trust. And she had blindsided him with young Robin O'Conlin.  
Even if he had been able to see the future unfold, it changed so fast that it was beyond his reach. He understood the timelines, the time loops, and how one little thing different in the past could make a huge difference in the future. However he understood that some things were supposed to happen to strengthen beliefs and convictions.  
Had they crossed against the light? By choosing to follow their hearts and love in order to survive this cruel, cruel world? He had watched her get out of the dark sedan and walk to the trunk of the car. She had opened it and had picked up the fake Turk. He had seen why the other Tyler had loved her: her determination to change the future, her unwillingness to accept the destinies as they had been set out. It had only been a matter of time before he had come to realize that he could never see her as just his mentor. His mind and body had screamed in protest at him when he had turned her down on the night after Judgment Day, but it had not been the right time. A wry smile formed on his lips: When was the right time?  
He raised his head a little to take in his surroundings. It was a small operation theatre with a lot of electronics and medical equipment. One large window with mirror-glass, two smaller ones that showed the darkened sky of the outside world. A small wall screen, one door next to the mirror-window and one door to his left. Eliminating the two small windows, there were three options for escape but it was not the time to leave yet.  
After putting his head down again, he closed his eyes and thought about his chances. He had wanted to escape from Century but this was Forrester, a known Skynet testing facility. Not that he wanted to be a lab rat to be experimented on but having knowledge of this place and its purpose would help the Resistance in the near future.  
The wall screen flickered and the pale bluish face appeared at the center: _We meet again, First Sergeant Tyler Jess Devlin._  
Tyler kept quiet and closed his eyes quickly after reading the welcome message on the screen, pretending to have lost consciousness again. A strong current sent his body convulsing and twitching and he clamped his mouth shut to keep himself from screaming in pain.  
_Do not lie, First Sergeant_, appeared on the screen.  
His heart pounded savagely in his chest and he feared it would explode if he didn't bring it down to a slow, regular beat. After taking a deep breath, he concentrated on slowing his frantically beating heart down. Slowly he turned his head a little to face the wall screen: "God damn piece of crap tech," he hissed through gritted teeth.  
Another strong surge of electricity raged through his body, straining his arm and leg muscles to a point past pain. It felt like each and every nerve and fibre of his body stood literally on fire: "God damn son of a rejected vacuum cleaner!" He panted.  
A third strong current coursed through his body and he had to fight to keep his thoughts together. He needed to focus, needed to keep thinking coherent.  
"STOP!" An unfamiliar man's voice called from somewhere to the left of him.  
Despite the gruelling pain of being electrocuted, he managed to turn his head a little to see who had spoken.  
"Fucking traitor!" He seethed, his teeth chattering while the remainder of the electricity left him.  
He had not known the voice but he recognized the man who approached him. They had never met in real life but he had heard stories about him, had seen his picture on the news and in news papers.  
"Like I was left a choice," the man countered while he checked the restraints.  
"We all have a choice! Never will I work with that junkyard filler!" Tyler growled, feeling the deepest of hate well up for the smug looking man.  
He had always hated him because of the stories his mother had told him, Sarah told him. But to work for the enemy, it was the biggest sin.  
"I would sooner kill myself!" He added.  
The fourth surge of electricity left him twitching and twisting again and he howled from the shear pain.  
"Too bad," the man sighed sadly. "Because you don't know what you are missing."  
He stared at the man: "Never will I betray our kind… But I will kill you painfully and slow… This I promise," he whispered.  
A fifth shock of electricity sent his thoughts reeling and his muscles and nerves straining to the end. The pain drove him closer and closer to insanity. His surroundings began to fade out when the current lasted longer than before.  
"Stop!" The man called again. "You don't want to fry his brain… Just yet."  
Somehow Tyler felt a little thankful when the electricity stopped raging through him. Darkness crept up on him and he lost consciousness.

A weird sensation sent icy shivers up and down her spine. Sarah heaved a deep sigh and tried to find a comfortable spot on her bed. It had been days since the last visual confirmation of Tyler and she had begun to worry again.  
A few days ago she had instructed Catherine to put together a raid team to help her son and Tyler escape from Century but they had returned without John, without Tyler but with a group of civs they had managed to liberate. Hanssen, the teamleader, had passed her a message from her son that he needed to stay in Century to give the other prisoners hope and to help those in need of help on the inside. It was not his time to escape Century just yet.  
Tyler was a different story; she knew that he would become an escape artist, helping people to get out of Century. The fact that he had seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth did not bode well. He wasn't the Tyler who had come back in time to help and protect them and she worried that he would never be.  
This Tyler refused to accept his fate lying down, resulting in reckless behavior and extremely dangerous situations, as if he was tempting fate, relying on his destiny to stay alive. It was a contradictio in terminus: his refusal versus his acceptance. But there were more conflicts in him. He would cold and distant as the other champion of the human race, warm and passionate when they were alone. Patient when examining the battle reports and the shutdown machines, impatient with intolerant troops and bad battlefield decisions by others. He could kill another human and feel no regret, and he could kill another human and be consumed by guilt.  
This world, this destiny had twisted and perverted him and he had become a very complex man. Nothing never meant nothing with him, and if she had not known him as a teenager she would have needed a manual to understand him and his reasoning.  
A faint but widening smile spread across her face when she thought back of their last lovemaking. It had been passionate and almost too vehement for her to handle, like he had bottled up all his good feelings and they came pouring out all at once. Afterwards he had lain wrapped firmly around her, resting his head on her heavily heaving chest, and she had thought that she had felt him sob silently while she had played with sweaty locks of his wavy hair, wallowing in the afterglow.  
For a long moment she wondered about what kind of man he would have been in a normal world. Immediately followed by the knowledge that in a normal world Tyler Jess Devlin would never have been. In a normal world John would never have been able to send back Robin Baxter to be Tyler's mother. In a normal world men like Tyler would never have been needed.  
I'm not a hero… I'm a monster, forged in the heat of battle, formed and defined by war, death and destruction. It had been ominous but true words, spoken by the man this Tyler was destined to become. The other Tyler with his cyborg left arm and the nanoattrioids that caused fits of pure insanity when he got worked up over something.  
The sudden need to sleep and forget about this world overwhelmed her and she closed her eyes. Slowly she sunk away in the world of dreams.

The man turned to face the small wall screen: "He will not be of use to us if you fry his brains beforehand. I don't need another drooling patient."  
The pale bluish face grinned maliciously: _He did not cooperate._  
"You want to know how he thinks? How he is able to handle metal in his body?" The man asked.  
_Affirmative._  
"Then don't fry his brains," the man countered annoyed. "There are other methods to discover his thinking pattern."  
Other methods?  
"We could monitor his brain activity while we show him images and words, see how he reacts to certain visual and audio stimulants. By his scars we can tell he is a fighter. Show him images of battle, let him listen to battle. He is fairly young-"  
_First Sergeant Tyler Jess Devlin, born February 17th, 1991. He is 24._  
"As I said fairly young. He is a good-looking man despite his scars, so he must turn a few heads on his base. He must have a mate," the man concluded.  
_A mate?_  
The man nodded: "A girlfriend, a lover, a partner."  
The pale bluish face morphed into the face of a woman extremely familiar to the man: _Her? Subject T7840/7 has reacted to her before._  
The man looked intently at the screen. He had never forgotten that face. The woman who should have made his career with her acute schizo-affective disorder but who instead had ruined his career and his life.  
He swallowed when he remembered that fateful night. She had broken his arm, threatened to pump him full of drain cleaner on her way out of Pescadero State Hospital. He had thought that she had been just another nut job craving for attention by inventing a truly unique story of an imaginative future, but that night everything had changed.  
He had resigned and had become a true believer but Sarah and hers had never granted him a moment's consideration. After Agent Ellison had locked him in the very same cell as her former patient his devote conviction of her son becoming the savior of mankind had slipped into a deep hatred.  
It had been the luck of the draw that the day before Judgment Day he had gotten himself into isolation in the basement of the building, and thus escaping the furious flames of reckoning. He was a scholar, unable to defend himself against the machines that flooded the world, so when the chance came to join forces with the oppressor he had grabbed it with both hands. He was not proud of it but it kept him alive. In exchange for his life, he had offered his knowledge of the human psyche.  
Now Dr. Peter Silberman stood looking at the unconscious man and felt relieved. He wasn't as intimidating as the big man he had seen clad in black leather, wearing dark shades on the night of Sarah's escape, but he was intimidating all the same. For a human.  
If this man was just as crazy as that Kyle Reese character he had examined in 1984, his threat held all truth. He stood at a crossroads. With one word, he could render him useless, leaving nothing behind but a drooling idiot in a vegetative state, but his curiosity took over. Aside from securing his own life, he could learn more about what drove the Resistance fighters and help out his employer.

Darkness was all around. Not even the night sky showed any stars. Electric blue mists swept over the surface. A mysterious wind swirled and whirled the mists. Bluish-white arcs fingered the dark emptiness. The strange lightning bundled together and the explosion of white light was blinding. As the light was swallowed by the darkness a sphere of energy became visible. It took the shape of a big mirror ball, and disappeared suddenly with an ghostly monster's growl.  
She squinted and could make out the form of a man. Scarred, muscular, naked. Slowly he rose to stand and she could finally see who it was. Tyler, his face devoid of emotion, scanned his surroundings slowly and seemed to look straight through her.  
Again a mysterious wind picked up and swirled the mists. Electric discharges lit up the darkened sky. Again it bundled forming into another sphere midair, growing until it touched grounded. Another spooky growl announced the arrival of someone. Scarred, lean, naked. The man was thrown into the mists, as if time had spit him out. The man slowly turned and scrambled to his feet. He looked around timidly. Kyle, the look in his eyes ultra-alert, stood hunched up and tried to catch a full breath.  
The mists separated and revealed a forked path. A look up at the darkness revealed two glaring red moons, piercing through the dark, like the eyes of the T-101 that had chased her at Cyberdyne Systems. She tried calling the two men who had now seen each other but her voice refused duty. She tried walking towards them but she was rooted to the floor literally. As she glanced down, it revealed her legs had melded with the floor fusing into the metal rosters she was standing on.  
A bright flare shot across the darkness, followed by a white flash and she automatically raised her hands to shield her eyes. The bright white light dissolved into the darkness and she stood looking a mushroom cloud reaching for the darkness. Like a plinian column it suddenly collapsed, thrusting its fiery clouds in all directions.  
She shrieked soundlessly when the first clouds reduced Kyle and Tyler to ashes. Fire tugged at her, the tongues of flames licking at her skin, but she couldn't feel it.  
Her eyes snapped open and she sat up with a start before staring at the soaked sheets for a moment. She gasped for air while she wiped the sweat off of her forehead. She was bathing in cold sweat and every muscle in her body was shaking vehemently. Blood roared through her veins and her heart hammered frantically.  
Still tormented and tortured in dreams, there would never be release from the madness that had haunted her for over thirty years now. This was the world she had known to come to exist. She felt sick to her stomach and she let herself slide out of bed. On her hands and knees, she threw up all she had eaten that day.  
Her stomach churned again when images from her past nightmare forced their way back to the front of her mind and she could barely keep herself from throwing up again. It had been a long time since she had had such a violent physical reaction to any of her many nightmares. Was it an omen? Like the Inferno nightmares she had had in the past around the time she had been sentenced to Pescadero State Hospital. Or was it her mind processing the severe losses the Resistance had suffered the past two weeks? Or was it just another of her numerous inexplicable nightmares?  
The dimming light announced the dusk. Another dark night was coming.


	15. Chapter 14: Escape From Forrester

**Chapter 14: Escape From Forrester**

Allison looked at the people in the cage next to hers. It was scary in the cargo area of the ship. Cages with people and animals left and right. The red-haired teenage girl in the next cage who had drawn her attention, crawled over to her. Only separated by two sets of bars.  
"Hi, I'm Savannah," the red-haired girl introduced herself in a low whisper.  
"I'm Allison, but everybody calls me Alley," she said timidly, looking at the big scary robots that paced back and forth.  
"Hi, Alley," Savannah said friendly. "Do you know Jim?"  
"Jim who?"  
"From Century?"  
She mustered a broad smile. Jim had been such a nice man. He had been very kind to her and had kept her company when she had been in that bad place to be sent here.  
"Do you know Tom?" She asked softly.  
She thought that Tom was a big scary man, just like those big scary robots. But she felt safe when he was around.  
"Tom?" Savannah asked.  
"He runned away. He's a giant and he will kill all the robots," she explained.  
Savannah smiled faintly: "Can't say that I know him."

Tyler fought the restraints again, glaring at the traitor. His hands were itching to kill him. The nerve of the man to formally introduce himself to him. The arrogance with which the man conducted experiments on him, like he was nothing more than a disposable lab rat.  
Six weeks he had tolerated this, but now he was done with it. His day consisted out of being restrained to the table while the good doctor poked and prodded him mentally and after the tests were done, he was brought back to his small cell where something that could pass for a bed and food awaited him.  
It was time to plan his escape from Forrester. He withdrew in his thoughts and memories, picked out the knowledge he would need to escape. In his cage-time he kept up his regime of staying fit and in shape. In his examination-time he build up strength in his wrists by flexing the muscles he would need to break the clasps. It worked like a mantra, soothing his inner thoughts and feelings.  
He hated Dr. Peter Silberman like he had hated no one else before. Not because he had chosen the side of the machines but because of what he had done to Sarah. Once every few days, outside Skynet's hearing range, Dr. Silberman would lean over him and taunt him by summing up Sarah's patient file. A file that should have stayed confidential, but Dr. Silberman took great delight in divulging the details.  
On numerous occasions he wished he had read her patient file, so Dr. Silberman would not tell him something new. He had forgotten all about it after Cromartie had come looking for him and had killed his father.  
What fed his hatred for Dr. Silberman the most was that the man took pride in conditioning Sarah's behaviour. If she had not already suffered enough by the general disbelief in that Skynet would bring out Judgment Day, the doctor had resorted to more desperate measures to conform his patient to accepted behavior. When Dr. Silberman had told him that Sarah had been an excellent subject to undergo electro-convulsive therapy, his hate for the man had reached new heights.  
Today was going to be a renewed attempt from Dr. Silberman to rattle his cage. Tyler could already tell by the way the doctor stood looking at him. Just like Dr. Silberman thought that he made an excellent study, he thought that Dr. Silberman made an excellent study case.  
There you had it. The traitor checked the wall screen, walked up to him and leant down: "Subject T7840/7, have I told you about how popular Sarah was with the orderlies?"  
Instinctively he strained his muscles to get to the source of torment but the restraints held him back.  
"She couldn't get enough of it with Dougie. Normally I would frown upon such things but you and I know that Sarah Connor is very special. So I looked the other way," Dr. Silberman said with a silky voice.  
"I'll kill you, you goddamn son of a bitch!" Tyler growled furiously.  
"I had hoped that she would come to see the light and would dump that fat guy, but you know… Love works in mysterious ways," Dr. Silberman laughed haughtily before standing straight to face the mirror window. "You see that it's all about how you bring something to someone's attention. I told him a lie and he immediately goes on the defense."  
"Fuck you, you conniving pervert!" Tyler howled.  
"That brings us to the topic of today. When to tell someone "Fuck you". The phrase can be uttered in various contents and situations. In subject T7840/7's case he expressed his displeasure with something I told him. But it can also be used to tell someone off depending on the conditions it is used in."  
Tyler retreated in himself, slowing his breathing down and closing his eyes until it looked like they were close, but through the narrow slits he observed the doctor. He would wait for the perfect opportunity to make his escape.  
"As you can see on the monitor, he has gone into a state of rest. His brain activity decreases, just as his heart rate," Dr. Silberman explained.  
Tyler suppressed the need to smile because before he would leave he would make sure that that traitor would never give a lecture about human behaviour and psyche again.  
"Now we want him to stay awake and enjoy the rest of the class. So," Dr. Silberman turned to the wall screen where the pale bluish face grinned demonically. "Skynet, will you be so kind and wake up our subject?"  
Tyler gnashed his teeth and almost bit through his tongue when a strong electrical current shot through him. Unwillingly he bucked and flopped when the charge sent his nerves into flames.  
"Silberman, you sad excuse for a human," he panted heavily when Skynet turned off the juice. "I will kill you."  
Dr. Silberman turned to the mirror window again and smiled with the warmth of a reptile: "Notice how the brain activities increased when our guest was woken up from his sleep."

Catherine Ryan looked at the charts again before glancing at Ethan Scottsdale. A few weeks ago,  
Sarah had been late for the shift so she had gone to see where Sarah was. She had found her on the floor next to the bed, curled up in a ball, next to a puddle of sick.  
With Tyler and John in Skynet camps, Sarah was the one left in charge of the developing Resistance against Skynet's tyranny. Because no one outside the unit should know about Sarah's existence, she acted as the new leader of the Resistance while in the background Sarah pulled all the strings, remaining invisible for all those out to harm her son or Tyler.  
At first she had thought that her friend might be with child because it was no secret on the base that Sarah and Tyler were seeing each other. But preliminary examinations by Ethan had ruled that out. He had ordered her to bring Sarah to the infirmary as soon as possible.  
"Are you sure it's just a bug?" Catherine asked in a whisper so she wouldn't wake Sarah.  
Ethan nodded: "Yep, it could be something else simple as the food she ate."  
"But a bug doesn't last a few weeks," she objected.  
"If it had been the old world, she would have recovered in a few days with the right treatment. But in this new world, we don't have the medications or the facilities to speed up recovery," her explained.  
She nodded slowly: "You're right. Four years into this damn war, and things are going from worse to worst."  
"War, diseases, disaster and famine. Nature's creations to decimate the population," he muttered. "It's just not something we can use right now. We're already with few, an outbreak of any disease, how innocent it may appear can have disastrous consequences," he looked at the patient again. "The fever is down and she is no longer delirious so I think she has seen the worst."  
"Death is not the worst that can happen to men," she stated matter-of-factly. "Ask First Sergeant Devlin when he comes back… If he ever comes back," she added with sadness in her voice.

Allison looked up at the two big scary robots that were looking into the cages. Were they looking for her? She hunched up in the corner farthest away from the door and kept looking at the two robots. They passed her cage and looked into the cage with red-hair pale-skinned green-eyed people. She became utterly scared when she caught the look of fear on her friend Savannah's face.  
One of the robots opened the door to Savannah's cage and pulled another red-haired teenage girl out. She knew the girl as Elsa. The other robot looked her over from head to toe and pushed her back into the cage. The first robot came up to Savannah and grabbed her roughly by the wrist, taking her out of the cage with it. The other robot scanned her from head to toe before locking the cage again.  
"Vannah?!" She cried when the robots grabbed her friend by the upper arms.  
Savannah looked over her left shoulder and smiled at her: "Don't worry. I'll be okay."  
Tears of sadness welled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She knew as well as anybody else in the cages no one ever came back once the scary robots had picked you out.  
By now the tears were streaming down her cheek. A strong feeling of homesickness washed over her. She missed her mother. She missed her father. She missed her stuffed cuddly bear "Mr. Growly".  
"She'll be back," the red-haired girl Elsa said in comfort.  
"They should've taken you!" She wailed in return.

Tyler channelled all his energy to his wrists, slowly building up strength in an attempt to break the clasps. Human behaviour class was over and Dr. Silberman stood talking to the wall screen, like he had done the past five minutes.  
Now was the time to kill that rat and escape. He clenched his fists and bundled all his energy. Only one chance, so he had to make it count. If the force he would have to use were to break his wrists, it was a price he was willing to pay if it meant his freedom and death to the traitor.  
One last breath, one last moment of pure concentration. He turned his hands with his palms up. Three, two, one, he counted backwards in his mind. After one he strained all the muscles in his upper body. The right restraint band and clasp began to deform under the sheer strength until it snapped. Quickly he sat up and undid only the restraint band around his right ankle. He would get rid of the bands once he was off this ship.  
A red light began to flash and sirens began to wail. Dr. Silberman turned to see what was going on behind his back and stared into the chest of his lesson material.  
"Please, please. Spare me," he began to beg immediately. "They made me do it."  
Tyler smiled wryly: "Of course they did. And because of that I will make it short and painless."  
He whirled the doctor, who continued to beg for his life, around, wrapped his left forearm around the man's throat and twisted the doctor's head until he heard a sickening soft crack.  
He let go off the lifeless body and assessed the situation. He had known that his escape would be noticed immediately, but this thing with Dr. Silberman had been personal.

"What's happening?" Allison asked the young woman with brown hair and brown eyes who was sitting closest to her.  
Bright red lights were flashing, casting their ghostly glow on the cages and walls of the cargo area. Sirens wailed incessantly.  
"Break out," the woman answered.  
"Vannah?" She asked hopeful.  
"Doubt it. And doubt it that he or she will make it," the woman replied without a hint of hope in her voice.  
The door to the cargo area flew open and a tall man ran past the cages, white bands swirling in the wind of his speed.  
"Tom?! Tom?!" She cried excited when she recognized the giant who she had met at Century.  
The man stopped running and started looking into the cages. He pointed at her: "Alley, right?" He panted while he looked around for something to break the lock with.  
"Stupid girl," the woman hissed. "He's the one escaping from this zoo."  
She nodded enthusiastically, happy to see someone else she knew. He looked at the deformed clasp and pin of the white band: "Gimme a sec," he breathed, jamming the pin into the lock before twisting and turning it until he heard a click.  
The door swung open and his hand closed around her wrist gently: "Come with me if you want to live," he said firmly while he looked around.  
The others in the cage began pushing for the open door and she felt fear creep up from her stomach.  
"Back!" He ordered when the woman who she had asked her question tried to push past her. "First the girl then the rest."  
One firm pull and she was outside the cage. People in the other cages started to shout and cry for help. The noise was deafening and terrifying.  
"Com'on," he barked, pulling her along with him.

A few minutes later Tyler burst through the last door and they found themselves on the deserted deck of the flight deck ship. Search lights bathed them in hellish bright light. The sirens wailed constantly and another door opened. H.c.c.u.'s ran out onto the deck. He took in his surroundings, no birds, so he decided to jump ship.  
He grabbed the little girl by her arm again and pushed her ahead of him: "Run!"  
She tripped and he scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder. They had no time to lose: "Can you swim?" He asked while he ran to the edge of the deck.  
"I don't know," he heard her squeak shakily.  
"Doesn't matter," he grumbled, speeding up a little.  
A few more feet. With a loud howl he jumped off of the deck, his right arm firmly around the girl's lower back. It felt like forever before they split the slick surface of the water below. That was higher than expected, he thought to himself while they went under.  
Without a moment to lose he swam back to the surface again, using his legs and his free arm, hiding in the looming shadows of the ship.  
"Can you swim?" He asked her again.  
"I don't know," she muttered.  
"Guess you will have to learn the hard way," he sighed while he released her. "Fuck," he growled when she started to thrash and drown almost immediately.  
He grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her up so she wouldn't drown: "Hold on," he told her while he hoisted her on his back, putting her arms around his throat so he could swim to shore under the dark cover of the ship and get them both in safety.

"Ma'am," a Private approached her. "C65 just called in an escape from Forrester. They saw a man and a little girl jump ship literally."  
Catherine looked up from the battlefield reports she was trying to read: "Sounds like the Devil is up to his old tricks," she smiled.  
"Ma'am?" The Private frowned.  
"Never mind, Private Hawkins," she said while she rose to her feet. "Send E.T.1 12 and 14 and let's pray those god damn tin cans don't find them before we do."  
Private Hawkins nodded and left to pass the orders to Dispatch. Catherine couldn't help but smile. It had to be First Sergeant Devlin. It had been the best news she had heard in weeks. And she was sure that Sarah would share in that sentiment.

1 Extraction Team


	16. Chapter 15: Being John Connor

**Chapter 15: Being John Connor**

Sarah leaned her head against the glass, staring into open space. He could see that she was upset. The light in her eyes was dim, her mouth was set grim and the nostrils of her nose were wide. She was fighting off her emotions, her tears.  
It upset John that his mother was this upset. The only other thing that had impacted her this much had always been the mere mentioning of his father's name because it triggered the memory of his father.  
He wished that Tyler had kept his word and had told her, that she had told Tyler. Maybe he was just a sixteen year old but he had seen enough of the world to know that the fighting between them had been nothing more than foreplay. His mother had liked Tyler more than she was willing to admit, and now her mind's health was in jeopardy again. He had come to realize once again that she allowed herself nothing, that all she ever did was to help him survive and get ready for the future to come.  
No matter how much he had liked Charley, Tyler would have made a better choice in the end because he had known about the things to come. Because he would have always died to protect them. Because he would never have been scared of her.  
It had been four days since Tyler's noble sacrifice. Four days since they had gotten hold of the fake Turk. Four days since TJ had come to realize that it would never stop, that it would only change. Change equaled surprise, something his mother did not like.  
"You'll meet him again, mom," he said to comfort her, knowing that it was a lie.  
Even if TJ would become Tyler, they would never be the same person. By the meeting of present Tyler with future Tyler, everything had changed.

John looked at the bars and sighed when he saw a drove of steel birds1fly by. Slowly he shook his head: it would never end. Time was in a loop and unless in the past they could definitely stop Skynet from ever existing, this would happen over and over again.  
Outside Century, the war raged on and on, and he felt helpless but he had to stay here for another few years to teach the prisoners everything they needed to know to form a fist against Skynet's rule. First Sergeant Tyler Devlin was his man on the outside.  
He took another deep breath and looked at the others in the room. They were all looking back at him as if they were expecting a miracle from him. So many people had died after Judgment Day, during battle, during their stay at the prisoner camps. And many more would have to die before the Resistance could claim victory in the summer of 2027. Even his mother would have to die. He knew their destinies and their purposes.  
His mother's death would strengthen Tyler, would give him a reason to live, but this Tyler knew the name of the traitor beforehand, Would Tyler try and change the future by taking out the traitor before the latter could inflict damage by giving up IT Base in exchange for his life?  
John didn't know about the previous Tylers but the one living in this time, in this world, appeared more torn than the one he had known in the past.

He smirked when he caught his mother looking at TJ curiously. Dinner at the Connors was already something to look forward to. Not only because it would be interesting to see if his mother had not messed up on the cooking again, but also because their strange lives could lead to interesting dinner conversations.  
He looked at his best friend and sent him a conspiring wink.  
"You are not bringing that girl into this house, young man," his mother said sternly.  
TJ chewed, then swallowed his bite and tilted his head a little: "Too bad. I guess I will have to spend some of my nights at her place then."  
John knew that was exactly the wrong answer to give and it looked like TJ had done it on purpose. If you belonged to the Connor clan, you better listened to the mater familias or you would be in serious trouble.  
"Do you care about this girl, Tyler?" Sarah asked sharply.  
TJ shrugged his shoulders: "I suppose. She's nice and all."  
"I suggest that you leave her the hell alone in that case," she growled.  
"Stop acting like a mom, will you? We all know you suck at that. Besides it's only two more years before JD, so I might as well do as I please."  
John could see the thunder clouds pack together over his mother's head, added the familiar brooding look in her eyes and all the ingredients for the storm were there. However TJ never shied away from them, instead he faced those storms head on. How different it had been when TJ had just come to live with them, even if he had not been the target of her storm, he had always been affected by her harsh words and the darkened look on her face. Now he just sat with his arms crossed and crooked smirk on his face, waiting for the storm to arrive, ready to counter her verbal attacks, knowing it would drive her crazy.

Had that been some kind of foreplay as well? John could not deny that there had been jealousy on his mother's part. He had been able to tell from the pitch of her voice when she attacked Tyler about his girlfriends, about his so-called social life. Still it could also have been that she had just been concerned; next to his own, Tyler's existence in the future was crucial.  
He looked at the barred window again. The moon was up; the fights on the battlefields had intensified during the evening, only to escalate during the night. How many would die tonight?  
"Are you okay?" A young man asked from across the room.  
"I'm fine," he answered slowly.  
"Do you really think it will help to sit around and do nothing?"  
"It's better than getting our asses shot off. Besides a storm is coming," he stated matter-of-factly. "The Devil is coming."  
He heard the snort of contempt, followed by: "The Devil is a myth. Something to keep the stupidest among us believing we can win this fucking war."  
"Dean," he sighed. "We can win this war. We will win this war, but it won't be tomorrow. It needs time, preparation and fighting."  
"What the hell do you think I have been doing the past seven years?" The man named Dean countered.  
"And we appreciate it, but unless we won't get better organized, the machines will keep the upper hand."  
"Maybe you should ask that Devil dude to do that?" Dean offered sarcastically.

He watched as the big reinforced concrete doors slid closed. The world was on fire, big mushroom clouds shaped the horizon. The Day of Judgment had come, and it tore him apart. The future had begun. He looked at his best friend of the past four years, at his mother who stood talking to the girl they had saved on the way over.  
How on earth had TJ gotten into his head to drive across a missile field? It had been important for them both to live another day and TJ had taken a short-cut straight through enemy territory, like he had wanted to confront their fates.  
He noticed his mother looking at his best friend and he smiled faintly. She wasn't staring him down. It were shy glances and he wondered what they meant. He had a pretty good idea. He just didn't think it was a good idea.  
He had seen his mother lose it on numerous occasions. In Mexico, after disabling Cromartie, she had completely lost it, and had smashed not only Cromartie's chip but a prefect good rifle too. It had scared and upset him that she had been so emotional, so fragile. Sarah Connor was the strongest person he had ever known and even she had fallen apart. TJ hadn't been there, only learning about the events in Mexico after they had returned, and he had taken it upon him to give him a severe beating for running off like that.  
He knew that his mother treated him like a prince, sheltered, kept out of harm's way on purpose, and normally she would have frowned upon TJ's behavior but this time she had stayed out of it. Maybe because on the way home she had gotten sick? Maybe because she had known that TJ would only hand out a lesson about ditching responsibilites.  
The world as they had known was coming to an end. Soon the new world order would be established and the long battle against the machines would begin.

"Welcome to Century again," John smiled grimly when the latest prisoner started to come to again.  
"Wait a minute… I know that voice…John?"  
"That sure took you a long time, TJ."  
"A mere four words," Tyler protested while he slowly opened his eyes.  
"What are you doing here?" John asked, barely able to suppress his annoyance  
"A bunch of rubber balls cheated during a game of tag," Tyler answered wryly.  
"Don't they always," John chuckled. "Injuries?"  
"One hell of a headache and probably a couple of cuts and bruises. Nasty side-effect of being slammed into things that won't budge."  
"You have a habit of it," John managed to laugh "They have to catch you with explosives. But speaking of things that won't budge… How is she?"  
"Fine, wondering when I get to busting your pathetic ass out of Century."  
"You just got here and already there's talk of escaping. Gotta love you for it," John grinned. "You do know you really are going to get it once we bust out of this joint, don't you?"  
"No doubt. It's quite possible we're safer in here than out there," Tyler quipped. "She'll fry my ass for getting caught... again."  
John chuckled with amusement: "Like you'd mind… Whispers in the tunnel say that she loves your sorry ass. So it could go either way."  
"Shut the fuck up!" A young man's voice broke through the darkness of the night. "I'm trying to sleep here."  
"Who's there?" Tyler barked in the direction the voice had come from.  
"Oh, that's young private Reese, Tech-Com D-N-3-8-4-1-6," John explained. "Don't mind him."  
"And who the hell are you?" The voice bellowed.  
"This walls have ears, kid. Never ever say your name out loud again, is that understood?" Tyler growled. "If you want to know who I am, you will have to come over here."  
Scraping noises. John worried as the young soldier approached them slowly. Maybe he should never have told Tyler about his father, but it was too late to reconsider now.  
"Okay, private Reese. A few basic rules… one, if I ever hear you give your real name aloud in a place crawling with machines I will kick your ass all the way into next year," John could hear that Tyler made no effort to hide his annoyance from his voice.  
"Who the hell do you think you are?"  
"TJ Devlin, Sergeant Major Tech-Com J-S-4-9-7-2-8," John answered for him.  
"The Devil?" Kyle asked with reverence. "I thought he was a myth? Some imaginary hero to keep us fighting for a better world."  
"Second, now that you know who I am, you will keep quiet about it. You will address me with Tom and him you will call Jim, and we will call you Ken. No last names to complicate matters."  
John noticed the devilish smirk on Tyler's face and he wondered what went on in Tyler's mind. Kyle Reese, his mother's to-be past lover, his future father, and Tyler Jess Devlin, his mother's present lover, his best friend: it was an explosive situation that didn't bode well and he had to come up with a solution to defuse the situation.  
Kyle didn't know about his fate but Tyler did, and the look on the latter's face spoke volumes. Brooding with a hint of jealousy. John knew that Tyler didn't have much to worry about because it would be years before he would start sending back fighters to strategic points in time, but this was not the future he had been told about.  
A key was turned and he looked at the door that was slowly opened. A large figure with a damaged rubber skin entered the room. Rustling of chains told him that Tyler was trying to get to his feet, but Skynet had learned from its past mistakes. It only allowed some people enough room to move a little. The loud howl of frustration chilled him to the bone: "Easy, Tom. Don't get them alerted. You've escaped them one time too many."  
He watched as Tyler sat back on the floor again in defeat, his eyes following the machine's movement. Wincing when the machine yanked Tyler to his feet. He averted his eyes when Tyler tried wrestle free. He knew what was coming next. His eyes drifted down to his own right fore-arm, to the bar code tattoo he had gotten a few months ago, after Tyler's umpteenth successful escape from Century.  
The Devil was an elusive creature and Skynet's technology was not so far advanced yet that it had given its toys the ability to determine a person's identity by verifying DNA. Which didn't make any sense to him, since this Skynet was smarter, faster and stronger than the one the other Tyler had told him about out on the rooftops. Why didn't Skynet install that little bit of technology in its minions? Did it like the hunt for the key players or were things complicated as usual? Or did it think it was safe and in a superior position, thus complacent?  
Tyler's howl of pain sent shivers up and down his spine. No doubt his friend would think that he was to blame but this was just the natural course of events. At one point in time Skynet would start to mark the humans to make identification easier, to sort out its informers and its worst enemies. The bar code would help Skynet's toys out on the battlefield. Skynet was learning to make a distinction between the humans who were willing to help and the humans who would fight to the bitter end.  
He looked at Tyler, who lay curled up in a ball clutching his burnt right forearm.  
"I'm so sorry," he mumbled while he noticed that his friend had passed out.

The office overlooking the main hall of the abandoned warehouse on Naples Island was used as command center for the developing resistance. John looked up from the maps and the battlefield reports when there was a knock on the door.  
"Enter!" He grumbled.  
The door opened and closed.  
"Sir," Private McNab saluted him.  
John rolled his eyes: "What do you want, Private?" He asked gruffly,  
"There's a Sarah Baum who requested entrance to CD Base and Sergeant Devlin has returned with a former Corporal with the US Army," Private McNab answered in a formal tone. "Furthermore there are two children in the waiting room, who have asked refuge at the Base," he added while he looked at his clip board to find their names. "O'Conlin, Robin and Weaver, Savannah."  
John rose to his feet and started to pace back and forth in front of the large window that overlooked the main hall. Sarah Baum, an alias of his mother. He wished he could feel happiness about her return to him, but Skynet was gaining ground just north of Naples Island fast and it consumed his thoughts. She had gone missing in action two years ago and now she was back. He had learned to go on without her guidance and tutoring, without her.  
He felt guilty for not feeling some kind of joy that she was still alive. Maybe it would all change the moment he saw her again? After two years of war against the machines, he had grown numb. Already he had sent hundreds to their deaths and the only way not to be affected by it was to keep a safe distance and disconnect any feelings he might have. Being John Connor meant being extremely lonely, by choice.  
"Your orders, sir?"  
"I want to talk to the Corporal first. Maybe he is useful for the resistance?"  
"It's a she, sir," Private McNab said smugly. "So she will be more useful to us on her back than out on the field. Maybe she's a 'teacher' like that Baum woman? I bet she could teach the guys on this base a thing or two."  
John stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at Private McNab. He felt tempted to draw his sidearm and shoot him for making such a degrading remark about his mother, about women in general. If there was one thing clear to him, it was that women made just excellent fighters as men; his mother was living proof of that. She was by far the best fighter he had ever known. Not Kyle, not Tyler, not he himself, but Sarah Connor.

He looked at his second best fighter who was studying the shackles of the chains that confined him to only a few feet of moving space. Tyler Devlin, the Devil, already legendary for his bold escapes from Skynet death camps. In the six years he had been imprisoned at Century, there had been numerous break outs with his friend leading the way.  
Tonight it was his time to escape, along with the Reese brothers with the help of the Devil. Turning his head a little, he looked at the young man who was destined to become his father in a distant past. It was no secret that Tyler didn't like the kid and if Tyler did not have another destiny to fulfill, he might have considered to send him instead of Kyle Reese, but Tyler was needed in another time.  
Besides he seriously wondered if his mother as a naïve college student and Tyler were as compatible then as they were now. In 1984 his mother was a completely different person than she was now. She had been a part time waitress, trying to work her way through college. Young and sweet, unaware of the future that lay ahead of her.  
He looked at Tyler again, who was now jiggling the padlock that kept him in chains.

Time seemed to slow down to a complete halt while he watched Tyler fall to the ground. He tried to yell but his voice refused. Rooted to the floor, unable to move a muscle, he watched as Tyler tried to push himself up off of the street.  
Tyler wasn't supposed to die for him yet. Wordless, he could do nothing but watch while Tyler collapsed on the street a third time. This wasn't supposed to happen. He would have to send back Tyler in six years to keep TJ, his mother and himself safe. Nevertheless this wasn't one of the many futures he had been told about. So many things had been changed in the distant and recent past.  
Derek's survival after Vick's attempt on his life. Tyler meeting Tyler. Tyler should have swallowed his deeper feelings for Sarah and he should have suffered in silence as the world would have turned into the darkest pits of hell after the fall of IT Base, only four years from now. Tyler should not have known about his daughter until it was too late so he could have used her as leverage to get Tyler into a fit of complete and violent insanity. Robin Baxter should not have known about her son and her destiny until she would have to save his life. If Derek had died, Tyler would never have met his future self. He wouldn't have known the future the way he did now.  
Finally he found his voice back and yelled: "Man down!" to the young fighter closest to Tyler.  
"Whaddya want me to do, sir?" The young soldier yelled back while ducking away in the shadows.  
"We need to get him out of there," John barked, picking up Tyler's modded out plasma rifle.  
It had jammed and now its owner could die. John only knew of one incident where 'Peacemaker' would refuse duty, the morning IT Base would fall but that was years from now.  
"He's bait, sir. The moment we move in to get him, they'll get us!"  
"I don't care, Reese! We need to get him!" He shouted while he took in his surroundings before leaping over the pile of rubble he had been hiding behind.  
"Sir!" Private Reese called, immediately opening cover fire as John ran to get his friend.  
He kept his head low, his eyes up and dodged the lasers and plasma charges the best he could.  
"Damn you, Devlin," he hissed when a laser grazed his upper left arm and set it on fire.  
Pain seared through his body but he kept going. It wasn't his time or Tyler's. He dropped himself to the floor when he reached Tyler and quickly examined him. It didn't look good. The blood flow had stopped after the charge had scorched the wound shut but it had left a deep wound.  
"Ty," he whispered while he tried to figure out the best way to get them out of the line of fire.  
"C…? Get… the fuck… outta… here," Tyler panted. "She'll… kill me… if… something… happens… to you."  
"She'll kill me if I leave you here to die," John grumbled, grabbing Tyler by his right forearm with his left hand.  
"The needs… of the… living… outweigh… those of… the dead… and… the dying," Tyler breathed.  
"You're not dying, goddamnit!" He growled furiously. "You're not dying," he repeated as he dragged him to safety.  
"Yeah," Tyler started coughing up blood. "You… just.. keep… re-peat-ing… that, C."

He looked at the dead man on the wooden floor. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins at a dazzling speed. It felt so surreal, like he was watching it from afar. The man had tied them up, had started beating on his mother and he had blown a fuse. Inhumanly strong under pressure, he had managed to scrape through the plastic band that had bound his hand. A struggle, a snap.  
The man had been unaware, occupied with getting his revenge on his mother. Where were Derek and TJ when you needed them the most? Despite Tyler's death, a fake Turk and an unstoppable future they still tried to stop Skynet. TJ had resigned in his fate and tried to enjoy his life the best he could for the time this world had left. Now TJ was away at college.  
His heart felt like it was going to explode. He had killed a man. He had killed someone. He looked at his mother, who stared at him in shock, the look in her eyes one of pity and horror. His knees gave way and he felt himself fall backwards. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up again. Her eyes drifted to the man he had killed.

The sickening sound of when Sarkissian's neck had snapped, he had never forgotten it. It had been his virgin kill. And nothing had ever been the same again. He had harbored a kind of grudge against his mother for not protecting him any better, but she could never have anticipated the surprise attack by Sarkissian and his thug. It had been an unfair resentment towards her, because she had done everything and more to help him the best she could, to stop the future from happening, to save his life.  
Why was he thinking of it now? With his friend convulsing on the makeshift gurney? Only a few minutes ago they had returned to CD Base. Things had sure changed over the years. Maybe he should have brought Tyler to IntelliTech Base so he could. His thoughts stopped. What could Tyler do? Die in the arms of the woman he loved? Be strengthened by her presence and fight to live? Should he send someone to get his mother?  
He looked from Tyler to Kyle and Derek. Getting his mother to CD Base was the last thing he should consider and yet he was considering it. But what if Kyle would meet the legendary Sarah Connor by accident? Kyle had not been 'prepared' yet and it would mess up the future even more than it already was.  
With Tyler's help, they had busted out of Century just a few hours ago and now Tyler would most likely pay the ultimate price for doing so. Didn't he owe his friend that much that he should get his mother to CD Base?  
"I'm sorry, Tyler," he mumbled, hanging his head. "But I can't."

1 Steel bird = Aerial Recon Unit


	17. Chapter 16: Tyler's Inferno

**Chapter 16: Tyler's Inferno**

"Keep him still!" Ethan ordered when his patient began to buck and flop vehemently. "I need to get a line in," he growled while he reached for the duck tape. "He's banged up pretty bad and you all stand there like a couple of statues. Want him to die?"

His eyes snapped open and he stared at a white ceiling with oak beams. Slowly he sat up, pushing back the crispy clean covers to swing his legs out of bed. He frowned when his thighs and calves bore no markings of the war. His upper body revealed no trace of the battle either. Stumbling a little, he got to his feet and looked around the room before going over to window. After pushing the curtains aside a little, the old world revealed itself to him. Grass, trees, people in the street, instead of ruins, burnt out cars and skeletons.  
He had no idea where he was but this couldn't be real. The door to the room creaked and he ducked away in a defensive crouch, ready to jump on the intruder. His heart skipped a beat when Sarah walked in, dressed in a waitress uniform, her hair put in a neat bun.  
She smiled warmly and shook her head: "A good morning to you too, honey."  
He raised an eyebrow and tried to come up with an excuse for his behaviour: "I'm sorry. I guess I had a bad dream."  
"Must be your job," she chuckled while she adjusted and retied her apron. "You came home at two last night. What does the man have you do that has you out all hours of the night?"  
Since he had no idea what she was talking about, he answered with a simple shrug of his shoulders.  
"Ah, it's still hush-hush," she laughed as she sat down on the bed and put on her white sneakers for work.  
He watched as she pulled up her right leg to tie her shoe laces, revealing a scar free lower leg. Just like him she bore no markings of the continuous battle. His eye caught the long standalone dress mirror in the far corner of the room near the massive oak closet.  
With his heart pounding erratically in his chest, he walked up to it and looked at his reflection. For a few seconds it showed a normal young man. Still tall, but not too muscular, a face determined by kind eyes and a crooked grin. Then the reflection flickered and the mirror showed a ruined world at night. His own reflection had become of a man marred by war, dressed in black ragged clothes, and he jumped back.  
"What is it, babe?" Her voice came closer and closer until he felt her arms come around his waist.  
He felt her rest her head against his back, her neatly brushed hair tickling his bare skin.  
"Nothing," he muttered, closing his eyes for a brief moment.  
"Will you be home for dinner? Or will he have you work late like he has been the past few weeks?" She asked in a whisper.  
"I don't know, Sarah," he answered with a sigh.  
"Sarah? It's been a long time since you addressed me that way," she sounded disappointed.  
"I'm sorry," he mumbled insecurely.  
"Are you okay?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine," he nodded, finally daring to look in the mirror again.  
The dark world and the man had disappeared again. Now it showed him with her arms around his middle in a nice and clean room with sun light streaming in through the large windows. He couldn't help but grin broadly when he saw her look past him at their reflection in the mirror.

Catherine took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door.  
"Enter!"  
Slowly she pushed the door open and found Sarah sitting at her desk, reading the battlefield and recon reports of the night before: "Yes, Cathe?"  
"John's out. E.T. 17, 34 and 57 have confirmed it. They assisted in extracting a group of escaped Century prisoners just south of the Safe Zone."  
She noticed the look of relief on Sarah's face, but then concerned overshadowed the woman's face: "Tyler?"  
Taking another deep breath to buy time, Catherine knew it would come down to her lying skills: "No visual confirmation of the First Sergeant as of yet, ma'am."  
The chair got knocked over when Sarah jumped to her feet, stalked over to her and got in her face: "Don't lie, Cathe. Tyler lead this operation. He wouldn't have strayed from John while breaking them out. If they have John, they have Tyler… So what the fuck happened?"  
She looked past Sarah at the wall with a torn, yellowed map of Los Angeles: "Ma'am?"  
"If he's injured or dead, just tell me. But don't fucking lie to me!" Sarah seethed, her green eyes spitting fire.  
"He's still fighting, ma'am," she said in a low whisper.  
Sarah Connor was a very sharp woman who seemed to be on the edge constantly. She had a knack for knowing if someone was lying to her, but this wasn't a complete lie. First Sergeant Devlin was indeed still fighting. He wasn't fighting the machines. He was fighting for his life.  
It would take a miracle for him to survive this.

"What day is it?" He asked after she had handed him a mug of steaming coffee.  
She looked at him in disbelief: "You're kidding, right?"  
He shook his head: "No, not really."  
"April twenty-first, two-thousand-eleven," she sighed while she rolled her eyes. "He must have you work so hard that you forget the simplest of things. It's our one-year anniversary," she added with a dark look on her face.  
He raised an eyebrow in confusion and looked in wonder when she held up her hand. An expensive looking wedding band graced her ring finger. They were married? But how could that be in a world in which he could never have existed? Without Skynet there would be no time displacement device. Without a time displacement device his mother could never have been send back and he would never be.  
The dark look subsided and a slow smile appeared on her face: "But you're excused since he's been having you work your fingers to the bone… I'll let you make it up to me tonight," she laughed.  
He had no idea of how to react so he kept quiet and returned the smile. April twenty-first, two-thousand-eleven, Judgment Day. Would it still happen?  
"What time is it?"  
"Seven past eleven," she answered with a look of worry in her eyes. "What happened, Ty? You always remember everything and now," she paused. "It's not like you to be so forgetful."  
"Where's John?" He asked.  
"John? Who's John?" She countered with a question of her own.  
"John, your son," he answered slowly.  
"Are you coming down with a fever, honey?"  
"I'm fine," he answered with a steady voice, feeling more and more lost.  
"Then you could know that I have no kids. Or is this another attempt to discuss the possibility of children?" She grumbled annoyed.  
"No?" He offered hopeful.  
"No," she confirmed. "I love you, Ty, but we agreed no children. You're twenty, I'm forty-five. By the time our child will go off to college, I'll be in a retirement home."  
Twenty-five years apart. The time jump, it had never happened. The cancer?  
"Are you okay, babe?" He asked hesitantly before taking a sip of his coffee.  
The warm liquid tasted so good and he hummed a little. It had been years since his last mug of coffee. For someone, who was a bad cook, she could make an excellent pot of coffee. The hot, bitter fluid, he had forgotten how good it actually tasted.  
"Did you bang your head last night? You promised to never call me babe," she chuckled.  
He smiled faintly, feeling completely lost suddenly. This wasn't his world, and she didn't know. She didn't know that on this date the world would go to hell. Would it go to hell again?  
She tilted her head a little and showed him her slow, crooked smile. It was a familiar sight that warmed his heart and confused his mind even more. Only the brooding look in her eyes was gone.  
An icy chill ran up and down his spine. This was the Sarah Connor who would have been without the future interfering. This was the world that would have been without Judgment Day.  
Thursday. April twenty-first. Two-thousand-eleven. Judgment Day. It was today. He glanced at the clock on the blind kitchen wall. Seven past eleven in the morning.  
Unable to help himself, he started trembling vehemently, spilling some of his coffee. She looked at him with great concern: "Are you really okay? You don't look so good."

One bright light lit the room. Thick layers of dirt, dust and grime covered the walls and the floor. On a makeshift operating table lay an formidable man with a young woman and a man standing over him, trying to revive him again for a fourth time.  
John stood aloof and looked at the patient, hanging his head in defeat. It didn't look good, but he needed to believe that Tyler had enough fight in him left to survive. There had been numerous times in his life that he had felt helpless, unable to do anything, but the feeling had never been as overwhelming as it was now.  
Despite the resignation in his fate, Tyler was a fighter and he would fight to the bitter end. However never before had the end been more near than now. If Tyler would die this morning, the future would become uncertain again, just like the past.  
He rubbed his forehead. There was only one thing he could think of that could save the First Sergeant. It was Skynet tech and only known and available to them four years from now. The nanoattrioids that had driven the other Tyler crazy but had ensured his survival after losing his left arm.  
"The nano's," he muttered underneath his breath.  
Robin and Ethan looked at him curiously.  
"Never mind," he added in a whisper.  
"If you have any ideas, we'd like to hear them now, C," Ethan said through gritted teeth while he checked the restraints again.

He looked up from the newspaper he was reading when she came back into the kitchen. She had traded her waitress uniform for a more casual outfit.  
"I called us both in sick. Obviously you're not well today and I don't feel like leaving you alone today," she grinned mischievously.  
He replied with a shrug of his shoulders and turned his attention back to the newspaper. ZeiraCorp stock was selling at a market high and the newspaper had decided to dedicate an in-depth article on the company's CEO's Lachlan and Catherine Weaver. He crumpled up the page and tossed it across the room.  
"Ty?" She asked confused while she bent down to pick up the crumpled page and unfolded it. "What the hell is wrong with you?"  
"They're gonna blow up the world," he hissed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.  
"Who is? The Weavers?" She asked slowly.  
"The Weavers! ZeiraCorp! The world's gonna die!" He growled while he jumped to his feet.  
"Ty," she said concerned, tossing the page on the kitchen table. "You're overworked, honey. No one's gonna blow up the world. The world's not gonna die," she added.  
"Yes, it is. It's gonna die today," he grumbled as he stalked over to the windows over the kitchen counters. "Today's Judgment Day. We need to leave," he stated sternly after checking the clear blue sky twice.  
"Is that how you call it?" She asked darkly. "Judgment Day?"  
"Huh? What?" He turned to face her. "No, not that."  
"That?" She echoed. "Ginger and Matt warned me about you. They told me-"  
"Told you what?" He interrupted her. "That the end of the world is near? That five point five billion people will die this day? Did they tell you that?"  
She looked startled, if not afraid: "Tyler, please. You're acting all crazy."  
"I'm crazy? Skynet's gonna make sure that today's gonna feel pretty fucking real to you! Anybody not wearing number two million sunblock is gonna have a real bad day, get it? It'll all end today!" He exclaimed.

Electric arcs casted their ghostly bluish-white glows on the smudged walls of the dimly lit room. The strange lightning combined to a sphere of energy. John squinted and tried to make out the form. He had travelled through time himself once, to jump over his mother's death so she wouldn't die of cancer.  
The sphere growled and materialized, revealing a naked young woman, cast into this time and place. She didn't look like someone he knew in this time, but if she was from when he thought she was, another six years of fierce battle would change anybody beyond recognition.  
The young woman propped herself up on her elbows and looked around the room until her eyes came to rest on him: "General Connor?"  
He nodded slowly and smiled sadly: "I'm John Connor. Who are you?"  
"Corporal Lucy Owens, sir. MedCom, O-L-9-9-0-5-3," she answered firmly, accepting the torn sheet Robin handed her.  
He looked from Corporal Owens to Tyler and knew why she was here. She was the miracle they had been hoping for. He had sent her back to save Tyler's life, which could only mean one thing: she was from the altered future.

It felt like his mind was exploding, like it was literally on fire. He turned back and looked at the sky again. Zigzag patterns marked it. Missiles, they had been launched. He looked at the clock. Eleven twenty-seven. It had started.  
"Tyler?"  
He turned towards her again, rushed over and grabbed her by the wrist: "We need to leave!"  
Out on the front lawn, he stopped in his tracks causing her to bump into him. His eyes were drawn to the sky, blackened by the countless missiles.  
"What is it?" He heard her ask from behind him.  
Time stopped. A missile plunged from the sky. An extremely bright flash of white light ensued and he raised his hand to his eyes to see. A big bellowing mushroom cloud of fire reached for the sky. Heat, scorching heat. His skin felt like it was burning away and he turned to see Sarah. She was frozen like an ashen statue. A blast wave followed and ripped through everything and everyone. He felt the flesh being stripped from his bones and he screamed of agony in silence. Another missile fell to earth, another mushroom, another shockwave. A hot gust of wind scattered the ashen statues, leaving nothing behind that reminded of the old world.


	18. Chapter 17: Something Dark Is Coming

**Chapter 17: Something Dark Is Coming**

Lucy looked at the General who stood conferring to the leader of MedCom. After Robin had mysteriously disappeared, the medical division of the Resistance was now lead by First Sergeant Scottsdale. They were talking in low whispers and she could barely hear what they were talking about. Something about it being the only way.  
"Corporal?" Ethan turned towards her.  
"Sir?"  
She approached them quickly, not wanting to keep them wait.  
"We've got a delicate mission for you," the General said in a soft voice that kept its authority despite its lack in volume. "Have you ever heard of the Devil?"  
Her eyes grew wide: the Devil was a myth, the stuff of legends. He or she had raised hell until about eight years ago. The survivors were convinced it had been First Sergeant Tyler Devlin. His last name was suited for a nickname like that and his heroic escapes from Skynet death camps were source for many tales about the Devil. She nodded slowly: "I have heard of him or her, sir. He or she went m.i.a. eight years ago."  
"It's because he died eight years ago," the General said in a monotone voice. "He gave his life to save mine when busting me out of Century."  
Had she heard it right? Had the General's voice trembled with restrained emotions? She knew that the General was a loner, keeping to himself as much as possible. He was a ghost in many ways. Nameless he would go out to battle at night and fight along his troops anonymously.  
"Was he a friend, sir?"  
The General looked away and nodded slowly: "Would you like to meet him, Corporal Owens?"  
"Sir?" She mumbled, not understanding. "With all due respect, didn't you just say that he died?"  
She watched as the General turned his back towards her: "Ethan?"  
Now she turned her head a little and looked at First Sergeant Scottsdale.  
"We could've saved him that night," Ethan began while he reached for a vial with a strange red-greenish fluid in which white shiny sparkles swirled and glistened. "If we would've had this."  
"What is it, sir?" She asked curiously.  
"It's one of the latest pieces of Skynet technology called nanoattrioids. Skynet uses it for human mind control. The Devil is the only human known to be able to fight it off."  
"But the Devil is dead," she stated while her confusion grew and grew.  
"Not in my past," the General said in a soft voice. "In my past he is very much alive."  
She looked from the General to the First Sergeant: "Again with all due respect, sir, he is dead. How can we save him if it is all in the past?"  
The General cleared his throat: "Time travel, Corporal Owens."  
The First Sergeant's face remained blank when she looked at him for help: "Time travel, sir?"  
"When the Skynet stronghold at Topanga Canyon fell last month, we discovered a time displacement device," the General sighed. "Skynet had already sent a T-800 back to 1984 so I sent a soldier after it."  
"Can I ask who, sir?" She dared to ask.  
"It's classified information," the First Sergeant answered for the General.  
She nodded. She hadn't expected a straight answer anyway: "What's my mission?"  
"You will be send back to the morning of the Devil's death in twenty-twenty-one," the First Sergeant said. "And you will take this with you," he held up the vial. "You will inject it into his blood stream so the nano's can start doing their work. It's important that the Devil lives… Not just for the future but for the past as well."  
"This damned war has already lasted two years longer than was told to me," the General interjected, clutching his fists at his sides. "Losing Tyler set us back two years. Only now we're beating those metal bastards into shrapnel and is Skynet losing ground fast."  
Her mind was spinning. How did the General know all of this? Until now she had never realized that there could be more than one future. Her head started to ache while she tried to figure it out.  
"Why me, sir?" She ventured to ask.  
She heard him take a deep breath: "Does it have to have reason?" He countered with a question of his own.  
"Is there something else I should know, sir?"  
Finally the General turned to face her, the look on his face told her nothing of what he was thinking or feeling. He acted and reacted very much like the machines they had been fighting for the past eighteen years, it startled her.  
Slowly he shook his head: "Only that if the Devil lives he will be prone to extremely violent fits of insanity. No one will be safe when he hits Skynet mode, which he undoubtedly will."

"What do you mean? John doesn't want me there?" Sarah seethed through gritted teeth.  
Catherine did two steps back. Sarah Connor was known to emphasize her point by throwing a mean right hook and she didn't feel like being a punching bag.  
"I'm sorry, Sarah," she said in a gentle voice, consciously calling her Sarah to close the rank gap between them and stress their friendship.  
Whispers in the tunnel had told that the Devil had fallen in battle and that he was fighting for his life. Whispers of which Catherine had hoped they would never reach Sarah's ears but they had and now Sarah insisted on going to CD Base.  
"It's not safe–" She began.  
"It's never safe," Sarah interrupted her.  
"I know you love him, Sarah, but going to CD Base, it's madness."  
"He's dying, Cathe," Sarah suddenly broke down in tears. "He's actually dying, and I'm not allowed to say goodbye because it's not safe… Well, screw that," she growled, regaining her composure quickly and reaching for her plasma rifle. "I don't want him to die alone."  
"He won't be alone. C's with him, just as Baxter, Scottsdale and the Reese brothers," she said, only realizing that she should not have mentioned the name Reese until it was too late.  
"That's it, isn't it? I can't go because of Kyle and Derek? You're kidding, right?"  
"Sarah, be reasonable. C didn't sent you with Tyler for nothing. He knows you're not safe on his base. Do you really want him to lose another great fighter this morning by going over there and get your ass blown off out of revenge for one of C's more unpopular strategic decisions?"  
Sarah walked up to her desk and slammed her right fist on it before she let herself fall into the chair: "Damnit!" She hissed.

Robin looked at the syringe Lucy was holding out to her. The red-greenish liquid with swirling white sparkles in it, it would save him.  
"Check it," Lucy said sternly. "Is it ten cc?"  
Robin took it and looked at it more closely: "Yes, it is. How is so little gonna save him?"  
"We need to increase it," Lucy explained. "If we give him too much at once, he'll go out of his mind."  
Robin heard John's snort of contempt: "As if it's gonna make any difference."  
"What is it exactly?"  
"Nanoattrioids," Lucy answered gruffly. "Nano's."  
Robin frowned: hadn't John mentioned nano's earlier? She sighed and checked the amount again: "What does it do?"  
"It embeds in the brains and the nerve system. It will make him stronger and less susceptible to injury."  
"And violently insane," John grumbled.  
"It's a parasite?" She asked, ignoring John's comment.  
"That's one way to put it. Micro machines designed to overtake their host at a given moment," Lucy said honestly while she took back the syringe.  
Robin couldn't escape the feeling that they were stalling the inevitable. Without it, Tyler would surely die. With it, his chance at surviving this considerably increased, or so she was lead to believe. It felt like they were at a crossroads: one road would lead them to a certain known point, the other road would lead into darkness. If it did what Lucy said it did, Tyler would live but he would become a danger. She hung her head and closed her eyes for a long. It wasn't just somebody they were going to administer it on, it was her son.  
For a long time she had pushed back that little piece of knowledge but now that she had seen someone come through time herself, it had come back prominently. Tyler had told her the truth, and she had hated him for it because she had thought it had been a lie.  
Before she realized it she had taken his hand and held it gently in hers, softly rubbing her thumb over the back of it. This was her son and he was dying. Tears welled in her eyes and she quickly wiped them away with the back of her other hand.  
She opened her mouth and tried to speak but no sound came over her lips. Lucy sent her a curious look.  
"Can I… Can I give it to him?" She stammered when she finally found her voice back.  
Lucy shook her head: "That would be against orders. The First Sergeant said that I should inject it into his blood stream."  
"Tyler told you that?"  
Again Lucy shook her head: "No, the First Sergeant of MedCom," she answered while looking at Ethan for a few seconds.  
"Well, I'm John Connor and I'm telling you to let her do it," John barked, sounding slightly annoyed.  
"With all due respect, sir, may I ask why?" Lucy asked with a frown on her face.  
"No, you may not," John growled.  
"Sir, we don't know exactly what will happen. We haven't tried it on another human before," Lucy nodded towards the still form on the table. "Him, I guess."  
Robin saw the muscles in John's jaw twitch. He was trying to keep his cool: "He will suffer, like none of us has ever suffered before. It will throw him into the deepest fits of violent insanity."  
"Sir? How can you know, sir?"  
"I know, because I know him… I knew him. I met the future him in the past," John said cryptically.  
"I'm sorry, sir, but that's impossible," Lucy protested. "First Sergeant Tyler Jess Devlin died in the late afternoon hours on the day you escaped from Century, sir… He died or dies."  
Robin noticed that John's face had gone completely pale: "IntelliTech?" He stammered.  
"It perished early in the morning of December fourth, twenty-twenty-five. The base got overrun by tin cans. They never stood a chance, sir."  
"Did you?" John began. "Did you see it?"  
Lucy nodded slowly: "I was a member of the E.T. that was sent to IT Base. No survivors, sir."  
John picked up a modded out 40 Watt Plasma rifle and held it up for all to see: "Did you find this weapon?" He asked.  
"But… But, sir, that's 'Peacemaker'," Lucy exclaimed surprised. "We found it near a woman's body, deep within the tunnels of the base."  
"She kept it," John mumbled barely audible. "It was jammed, right?" He asked in a firm voice.  
Lucy nodded slowly: "Yes, it showed signs of being jammed."  
Now it was John's turn to nod before he gestured a Private to come over.  
"Sir?" The young Private asked.  
Robin watched as John pressed the weapon in the Private's hands: "Destroy it!"  
The Private looked confused, then in awe that he was holding such a powerful rifle: "It's a perfectly good weapon, sir."  
"If that," John growled angrily before nodding towards Tyler. "Means it's a perfectly good weapon… Destroy it!"  
"But it's the First Sergeant's rifle. He will need it," the Private objected.  
"It refused duty once, and it will again. It has to go… If I so much as suspect that you've kept it or traded it, I will shoot you myself," John barked bitterly. "Are you sure that you want to do this, Baxter?" He asked in a much friendlier fashion, turning towards her suddenly.  
Again Robin felt tears well in her eyes: "I know who he is, C. I know now who I will be… I don't want to do this, but it's only right that I do it."  
She took the syringe from Lucy and leaned over the man who would be her son. Her eyes slid over his face, over the scars. She let go of his hand and gently caressed his face in a fashion only a mother could: "I'm sorry, Tyler," she mumbled while she looked for the best vein and stuck the needle in, pushing the re-greenish fluid into his blood.

The last thing he remembered was the intense pressure on his mind when the gusts of hot wind blew the world apart. Now everything was pitch black. Suddenly purplish and bluish-white mists rolled in, swirling erratically, rising and falling like waves at a shore. It started to rain small sparks of electricity.  
Slowly he turned three hundred-sixty degrees to see where he was. The pressure on his mind was back. His brain ignited and he fell to his knees. He pressed his hands to his temples and tried to fight off the increasing pain.  
"Ty?" A familiar woman's voice called from behind him. "I love you."  
Sarah. He looked over his shoulder but saw no one.  
"TJ?" Another familiar woman's voice called somewhere to his left side. "Don't you think it's about time that you put daddy's computer back together?"  
Mom. He looked to his left and saw no one.  
"Tyler?" A man's voice said sternly just to the right of him. "You haven't listened to a word I said."  
Dad. He looked to his right and saw no one.  
"Tyler Jess Devlin," a strange mechanical voice said. "Help me understand humans."  
He turned into the direction of the voice and stared into two bright red glaring eyes.  
The mist thickened, swirling more erratically than before. Suddenly he began to sank away. He looked at the ground and saw a silvery metallic liquid into which he was disappearing fast.  
Complete darkness set in again.


	19. Chapter 18: Picture Perfect

**Chapter 18: Picture Perfect**

Robin leaned with her back against the wall. Her knees buckled and she let herself slide to the floor. Tears were streaming freely down her cheeks. What had she done?  
If what Tyler had told a few years ago was true, and since this morning she did not doubt it, she had just become part in his insanity.  
_"Find out the hard way when you're screwing up my mind in ten years."_ It hadn't been ten years, only six. "_You will do stuff to me, bad stuff, and it will consume you."_ Words of warning that were about to come true. He had told her that she would make him mad. She could have stopped it, resulting in his death. She could have stepped back, letting someone else take the blame. There were so many things she could have done, done differently.  
She pulled her legs up, wrapped her arms around them and rocked herself back and forth. She couldn't deny that things had always been a little strange between Tyler and her, like an odd familiarity she had not quite been able to place. It had been there the moment he had saved her life for the very first time, on the day the world had gone to hell.  
She glanced at the door across the hallway from her. Behind that door, a man was fighting to stay alive. Behind that door, a man was slowly losing his mind while the nanoattrioids embedded into his brain and nerve system. What had she done?

John walked up to the young Private who was standing watch at the door of the operation room and gently placed a hand on the young man's shoulder: "You did one hell of a job out there."  
"Thank you, sir, but it was only my job," Private Reese mumbled shyly. "How is he, sir?" He asked hesitantly, looking past John at the still figure on the makeshift operating table.  
"Barely hanging on," John sighed while he looked over his shoulder.  
"I sure hope he will make it, sir," Private Reese said sincerely.  
"So do I," John agreed. "So do I."  
There was going be hell to pay if Tyler would still die. He had talked to Corporal Lucy Owens for a couple of minutes, only to be interrupted when Tyler suffered his first severe seizure. Owens had told him about the future without the Devil in it. Without the Devil the war had already last two years longer than he had come to believe. Instead of celebrating the victory over the machines in the summer of 2027, they had still be fighting in the spring of 2029. The loss of the Devil had set the Resistance back two years, back to the original timeline, if one really existed.  
"He's important, isn't he?" Private Reese asked slowly after an awkward moment of silence in which they had both looked at the topic of this conversation.  
"He is my brother," John answered in a whisper.  
"He's your brother, sir?" Private Reese frowned confused.  
John chuckled: "Not by birth, but we've been through enough together for me to call him my brother.  
He looked at the young man who was destined to become his father in a future distant past. A broad smile split his face in half when he suddenly remembered the little boy in the park playing ball with his brother Derek. Out for ice cream with his uncle on his sixteenth birthday.  
"We met when we were both sixteen. His parents were dead and he came to live with us… My mom taught him everything in four years what she'd been teaching me my entire life… She was an extraordinary woman."  
"She sure sounds like it, sir," Private Reese remarked.  
John reached into the back pocket of his pants and pulled out an old somewhat yellowed Polaroid photo. He could feel the eyes of Private Reese rest on him for a brief moment when he held the picture out to him..  
"She looks really nice, sir," Private Reese muttered a little embarrassed after only glancing at the photo for a second or two. "I can't really remember mine," he added sadly.  
"You can keep it if you want," John tried to sound as casual as possible.  
"Sir? She's your mother… I couldn't," Private Reese protested.  
"I don't need photos to remember her by… Reese, I don't have many things to give, and I would like you to have it… As a thank you for all you did out there."  
"I'm honored, sir, but-"  
"No buts, Private. It's just a small token of my appreciation. Nothing more, nothing less," John interrupted him.

He felt like he was drowning, his lungs slowly filling with the silvery white liquid he had sunk away in just seconds before. The increasing sensation of his brain on fire kept him from thinking straight. Acting on instinct alone he began to swim upwards, to the surface.

John knew that he was in trouble. His mother wasn't the kind of person you could say 'no' to without severe consequences to be faced. Nevertheless he had to chose the future, and not personal sentiment, in this case fear that Sarah Connor would rip him a new one.  
She had become a legend on her own, by making a stand against the future. She had given up her own life to give him one. It was something he could see now. For a while he had been allowed to be John Baum, instead of John Connor. She had made it possible by trying to stop the future, by keeping him out of harm's way. Until Judgment Day he had known every origin of every scar she had gotten in her fight for the future.  
She was indeed an extraordinary woman, given a life and destiny she had never asked for but had lived it the best she could. So she was prone to violent acting out and temper shifts. But who wouldn't if they had lived the life she had lead.  
It had been one of the reason why Tyler had to live. He had not seen them together yet. He had no idea how they were like as a couple. But it was a shred of happiness in her dark existence. If not for the future, for her.

"Get me John on the line!" Sarah barked upon entering the command center.  
"Ma'am?" Private Peter Marks looked up from his desk.  
"You heard me."  
Private Marks picked up the direct line to CD Base and talked to the person on the other end for a minute or two: "Ma'am. C isn't taking any calls," he said in a soft and gentle voice.  
"He can either come on the line or I am going over there," Sarah hissed, turning towards a small wall screen.  
A few moments later the wall screen flickered and John appeared onscreen.  
"John," Sarah said emotionally. "Thank god you're okay."  
"I'm fine, mom," John said with a hint of annoyance.  
She had forgotten about her anger for a little while when she saw her son in one piece. He had been in Century for six years and his stay had left its marks. No one survived the war unscathed. She knew, since she had gathered quite the collection of scars over the years and she had never forgotten how she had gotten them.  
"So what's the big emergency?" He asked feigning innocence.  
Immediately her anger was back: "Like you don't know!" She exclaimed furiously. "What's this bullshit of me not being allowed on CD Base?!"  
"It's not safe, mom," he sighed.  
"No one is ever safe, John," she countered annoyed.  
"I know!" He growled.  
She wanted to yell at him, for all the wrong reasons and the good. She wanted to ask him, but feared the answer. She wanted to know and didn't want to know at the same time. Was it wrong to hope that he would tell her without having to ask him?  
"Is that all?" He asked, looking away when someone entered his communication room.  
She opened her mouth to ask him the question she had been dreading to ask him and immediately shut it again.  
"Is that all?" He asked impatiently, now reading a note that had been passed to him.  
Finally she found her voice back: "That's all," she managed to say.  
She had been bent on ryno-ing him if he wouldn't give her any straight answers. However for one of the very few times in her life her emotions worked against her, made it impossible for her to go off on a rant.  
"Be safe, mom," he said before closing the line.  
The screen flickered and went blank.  
"Be safe, John," she said to the blank screen.  
"Ma'am, are you okay?" Private Marks asked concerned.  
"Never been better," she replied sarcastically while she turned her back to the screen. "Get me Ethan Scottsdale on the line."

"Damn, he's strong," Ethan panted while he tried to keep Tyler pinned down.  
"Sarah?" Tyler exclaimed, trying to struggle free. "Sarah?!"  
Robin sighed. Why didn't it surprise her that he was calling for that woman? She had tried liking her but as time went by, she had started to harbor a huge dislike for her. Tyler, her son, he could be blinded by whatever the Connor woman had shown him, but she knew how the minds of women worked. The age gap of 18 yeas only strengthened her conviction that Sarah was using him to feel better about herself. He was nothing more than a boy toy.  
At first it had been some misguided jealousy. When she hadn't known about their family bond. A handsome stranger reaching through dusty sand clouds and saving her life: who wouldn't fall in love with a hero like that? Later on it turned into something best described as motherly protectiveness: a woman like Sarah Connor was no good for her son.  
The door behind her was opened and closed and John brushed past her: "Hey, buddy," he greeted Tyler warmly.  
"Sarah? Where's Sarah?" Tyler's voice was weak, almost frail.  
"She's on her way over," John answered.  
At that Tyler let himself fall back on the table and closed his eyes, a smile forming on his lips, allowing John and Ethan to put him back in the restraints.  
"Robin, it's time," John said to her.  
She turned to Lucy who had prepared the second injection. This time it was going to be 12.5 cc. Tyler might be conscious but he wasn't out of the danger zone yet. The first injection had been to given to stop the worst. Now it was time to start healing. She picked it up and inspected it.  
"What's that?" Tyler asked, raising his head a little to see what was going on.  
"It's gonna help you heal, Tyler," John said in a reassuring voice.  
"But what is it?" Tyler wanted to know.  
Robin looked at John who was looking at the syringe she was holding: "Just some meds to help you recover from your injuries. You had us thinking you were a goner," John answered with a faint smile.  
"What is it?" Tyler asked for a third time, his voice fading.  
"Nanoattrioids," Robin said aloud.  
She hadn't meant to say it, but now she regretted it. Tyler began to fight against the restraints even before she had finished the word. John and Ethan each grabbed an arm and pushed Tyler back on the table, trying to keep him down. Now Tyler began to wriggle and kick.  
"Robin, now!" John barked while he leaned his full weight on Tyler's left arm.  
"Please, don't," Tyler pleaded with her, struggling, fighting. "You don't know what you're doing!"  
"Robin!"  
She jumped a little and quickly went over to the table, grabbing Tyler by the right wrist. His struggle had caused his veins to be prominently seen and she pushed the needle directly into the artery.  
"You don't know what you're doing," Tyler breathed heavily before passing out.


	20. Chapter 19: The Phoenix

**Chapter 19: The Phoenix**

John knew that he should have told her. He knew that he should have told her that Tyler was still alive and fighting for his life. Nevertheless he didn't want to give her false hope: Tyler wasn't out of the woodworks just yet. Besides if she had known that Tyler was still alive, she would have insisted on coming to CD Base, and he had already denied her access once. A second time could prove to be fatal if he knew his mother.  
He folded his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. It had been a long two days since his escape from Century and he had gotten one or two of hours sleep. He had kept watch over Tyler during the worst. The nanoattrioids worked swiftly, stopping the internal hemorrhaging almost the moment they had been injected into the blood stream.  
Remembering that the other Tyler had told him that the nanoattrioids would keep their host alive at all costs, he worried about the consequences. The other Tyler had been bitter, hostile and violently insane. What would the nanoattrioids do to this Tyler?  
He already knew that Tyler would hate him for it, and that was fine with him. He remembered the words of the other Tyler: "Neh, kid. Never will, no matter what I will say now or in the future. People say, do the stupidest things in the heat of the moment. Just remember that." However that had been another Tyler, another future past.  
It was just a hollow gesture, but he had given Tyler a promotion long overdue. The rank of Lieutenant Colonel could never compensate what he had done to his long time friend. Tyler had almost died when getting him out of Century, and this was the thanks he had gotten: nanoattrioids and a new rank.  
He picked up one of the dog tags on his desk and let it slide through his fingers. It would be Tyler's with his new rank. He picked up another and read the text on the metal plate: Corporal K. Reese, D-N-3-8-4-1-6. In a strange way, it felt like nepotism, but at the same time he knew that Reese deserved the promotion. Just like Corporal Owens who was now Sergeant Owens.

Tyler sat hunched up in the furthest corner of his cell, his arms wrapped around his legs. The constant burning on his mind had caused him to fly into a fit of insanity before collapsing into a severe seizure. He had not become violent yet, but he figured that it would only be a matter of time.  
He had seen firsthand what the nanoattrioids had done to the other Tyler. How he had gone from human to machine in a microsecond. His mind wandered back to an incident between the other Tyler and Derek.  
He had heard the fighting in the living room, immediately becoming ultra-alert. Adrenaline had been pumping through his veins while he had stealthily snuck into the living room only to see him towering over an unconscious Derek. Without thinking he had jumped forward to get between them as he had pulled back with his left fist to deal a deadly blow to Derek's head.  
Meeting his future self had changed everything. The self created imagine of the seemingly invincible hero Devlin had been replaced by a embittered and abrasive man, who could turn the smallest thing into a fight to show that he was top dog.  
He had looked up at him, seeing the complete violent madness in the man's eyes. He had been afraid of him, but the adrenaline had kept him from acting like a coward and so he had made his first stand.  
Words back and forth had ensued and he had managed to get him to snap out of that scaring state of mind. He had become that man. He had been infected with micromachines that could turn him into nothing short of the machines they were fighting.  
Now he had asked to be put in isolation so he could find out how much the nanoattrioids had changed him and how much of a threat he had become to others. The nanoattrioids would make him stronger, would make him more likely to survive severe injuries that would kill any other man, but it would come at a price. So far he'd had only suffered insanity and seizures but it would only be a matter of time before the machine would start to show.  
Having seen the other Tyler, having seen the sheer violence he would be capable of, it haunted him in thoughts and restless dreams. Nanoattrioids had been designed by Skynet to turn the kindest of humans into ruthless killing machines.  
After taking a deep breath, he looked at the door of the cell. It was locked but would it keep him from going on a rampage if the machine were to take over? When they had injected the nanoattrioids, he had become a liability. He couldn't be trusted anymore. He didn't trust himself anymore.  
That's why he had asked to be locked up. That's why he had yet to return to IT Base. That's why he had not contacted her. It broke his heart but it was in everybody's interest, except his. His self-imposed solitary confinement gave him time to reflect on things if the pain wasn't too terrible. The pain would go away, he knew that from the other Tyler, but it could return and make him violently crazy.  
Resting his head on his knees he slowly sank away in tormented dreams, in which the glaring red eyes were ever-present, watching him, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take over. He knew enough about dreams to know that they were meant as a warning that he had changed. That he would never be the same again.

Two weeks and not one word from her son about Tyler. She had gone to CD Base a few times but she had not been cleared for access. Was he still alive? Still fighting for his life? Or had he died? What if he was dead? She didn't want to think about it but in the silence of her quarters there was no escape. What had been her sanctuary once had now turned into her private hell.  
There were so many memories, so many reminders. When it was just the two of them, it was like the outside world seized to exist. They would talk about it but it wasn't so very present. She hated that he could spend hours dissecting infiltration units to find out more about them, to learn how to destroy them as quickly as possible and yet she loved to watch him. She would sit at a safe distance with her hand on her handgun just in case and just watch while he figured out the enemy units.  
He had been born for this purpose. He was a key in the battle against Skynet. Just like her son, he had never been given a choice and had lead a normal life for only a few years. Something that could not be said of her son, even when she had tried to give him a break as John Baum. His destiny had still haunted him.  
Some people were born old. Just like John, Tyler was born old. Given a destiny, they had never asked for and yet fulfilled. Never given a chance to be a child, prepared for the future to come from the moment they could understand things. She had tried to teach John the things he would have to know to her best knowledge. Tyler's mother had told him fantastic stories to prepare him for a dark world but had never been given a chance to teach him all he would need to know.  
So she had taught him all she knew, and he had been a very patient student where she had been an impatient teacher. He would ask questions to which she had no answers and he would question her teaching methods from time to time, driving her crazy on occasion.

Tyler stood still a few dozen feet from the hidden entrance of IntelliTech Base, looking at what coulad have been a clear night sky if it had not been polluted by the mists of battles. He was almost home but he was dreading to enter it.  
The headaches had subsided for the time being. It did not burn as much as it had done before but he wasn't reassured about their side-effects. Why had John insisted he would live? Why had he sent back someone with the one thing that would save his life? Why had he sent back someone with the one thing that would drive him insane? Why would John insist that he would live?  
He looked over his shoulder and saw Sergeant Owens climb over the rubble and debris, trying to keep to the shadows as much as possible as droves a.r.u.'s flew by to assist in battle somewhere in the distance.  
"Sir?" Lucy breathed heavily when she finally caught up with him. "Sir, the General asked me to tell you not be a target like that."  
"C can go fuck himself if he thinks I will ever obey him again," Tyler grumbled, following a particular a.r.u. with his eyes.  
"Sir, with all due respect he's the General," she muttered shocked.  
He snorted with contempt: "He could be the Pope for all I care. He sent you back to save my life. He allowed Robin to make me insane. He can go fuck himself."  
"Sir, he sent me back to save your life because he cares, sir."  
"Yeah, C is really the caring kind," he stated wryly. "My death would have set him and his precious Resistance back at least two years. People die for him all the time and he doesn't send anyone back to save them. He needs me and he knows it. That's the only reason why, not because he cares or feels guilty. He wouldn't have lost a friend that night, he would have lost a good fighter... I know my destiny, Sergeant. I know what I am destined to do or what I am to become. Without me the entire battlefield from the past to the future would have shifted beyond his control."  
She shook her head and ducked away in the shadows when another drove of a.r.u.'s flew over: "He sent me back because he cares, sir. I overheard his conversation with First Sergeant Scottsdale just before I was sent back."  
"Believe what you want to believe, Sergeant," he shrugged his shoulders and suppressed the urge to climb up to a point where he could make the jump onto the back of an a.r.u..

Catherine looked pale, as if she had seen a ghost and Sarah followed her gaze to where the two newcomers stood talking to the Doorman, who gave the man a hearty handshake and said: "Welcome back, sir."  
Only when the man turned towards her, she recognized him: Tyler. Her heart skipped a beat from happiness: he was still alive. Four weeks after whispers in the tunnels had told her that he had been critically injured while getting her son out of Century. Six weeks since she had seen him last. Not one word of comfort or confirmation about his fate.  
Her eyes were drawn to the woman. No older than thirty and certainly could be considered to be attractive, given the standards of this world. She had not heard from Tyler in a weeks and now he came home with a woman. Struggling to keep her temper in check, she turned away and headed for her private quarters in the deeper tunnels of the Base. On her way she allowed herself to fully realize for the first time that she was indeed eighteen years older than him. The woman he had brought with him to the Base was more within his age range.

"What's with her?" Tyler asked Catherine confused after he had shaken her hand.  
Catherine laughed: "Sir, we didn't know what had happened to you and she has been impossible to live with, but you had to bring a woman with you on your return."  
"What do you mean?" He felt more confused.  
"She's jealous, sir. It's been weeks since we last heard from you. Whispers in the tunnel said that you were a goner. I don't want to know what she's thinking but it cannot be good from the murderous glare on her face before she left."  
He scratched himself behind his left ear: "Connor is jealous?"  
"Definitely, sir," she grinned.  
He sighed: why did women have to be such complicated creatures? He knew that Sarah could have a jealous streak but that had more to do with getting attention than the presence of other women. He had never thought that she could be jealous of another woman.  
On the other hand she was known to have a wild imagination, added that he had kept himself in solitary confinement for three weeks without her knowing what had happened to him.  
"Uh oh," he muttered when he realized what Sarah could be thinking.  
"Exactly, sir," she smirked.

When there was a soft knock on her door, she knew who it was. Was he coming to twist the knife? She had thought he was dead and had tried to deal with it the best she could, but now it had turned out that he was still very much alive.  
"Connor? Sarah?" His voice drifted into the room when he opened the door without waiting for her 'enter'.  
"What do you want?" She asked gruffly while she turned her back towards him.  
She wasn't stupid, knowing that it would weaken her resolve to give him hell for abandoning her like that if she would look into his eyes. There had only been three men in her life whom she had truly loved: Kyle Reese, Charley Dixon and now Tyler Devlin. The first one had died while trying to protect her but he had left her a son who would be the savior of mankind. The second she had left at the altar because her son and she had been a threat to him. The third had just betrayed her by 'taking a holiday from the war by playing dead and ending up with another woman'.  
The other men in her life, and there had been plenty, had only served one purpose: to teach her son something that would help him in the future fight against Skynet and its toys. And the thing those men had had in common had been that they had been deceitful bastards, who had done as they had pleased without taking her son's or her feelings into consideration. Men the likes of David Grant who had ended up with a broken nose and a dislocated shoulder when they had 'surprised' her with their unfaithfulness. She hadn't liked surprises. She still didn't like surprises.  
She could hear him enter the room and close the door behind him. He didn't come closer.  
"Sarah?" His voice was soft and gentle. "Sarah? I'm sorry."  
"Sorry for what? For not being dead?" She asked, keeping her voice as steady as possible. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that too."  
He kept quiet for a moment and she wondered about the impact her words might have had on him.  
"Whatever it is that you are thinking about me and Sergeant Owens, you got it all wrong," he finally said, sounding a little closer.  
"Do I now? I asked you to get John out. That was six weeks ago. Not a word, Tyler, in all that time… Whispers in the tunnel said that you were dying or dead already."  
Soft footsteps, he came closer again. Was he testing the water to see if it was safe to be near her?  
"I died on the morning of John's escape," he said slowly as if he were searching for the right words.  
"If you're dead, what the fuck are you doing here?" She asked sharply.  
"Connor," he sounded like a chastised child.  
"You manage to get yourself killed and now you're alive again. I might not be as smart as you but I do know that's impossible."  
She whirled around to face him. There was something different about him, he appeared to be colder and more distant: "Whatever it is that you want to say, say it. Or get the fuck out of my room."  
"Connor," he said again, avoiding any eye contact.  
It was the last straw. For weeks she had thought that he had been dead and now he didn't even had the guts to look her in the eye and apologize or say what was obviously on his mind. Or better who. Two steps and she had bridged the distance between them. He glanced at her for a second or two and returned to avoiding eye contact. She pulled back and landed a right direct punch on his jaw.  
"Connor," he said for a third time while he stumbled back.  
Without giving him time to defend himself, she connected a left direct punch to his stomach. With him doubled over, she was going in for the kill: a knee to the head. As she reached for his head she suddenly found herself falling over backwards. All the air escaped her lungs when she landed flat on her back.  
"Don't," he said through gritted teeth, his left hand pressed firmly to the side of his head.  
She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him again. The sight was oddly familiar, but it hadn't been him. It had been the other Tyler just before suffering what he had called a nano-attack. But that couldn't be! It would still be a few years before Skynet would introduce the nanoattrioids as its latest weapon against the humans.  
She watched as he fell on one knee and now pressed his right hand against the other side of his head. Quickly she sat up completely and crawled over to him: "Ty, no," she whispered, unsure if she could touch him. "Nano's?"


	21. Chapter 20: Like Father, Unlike Daughter

**Caution:** _May contain what could be considered explicit content. Reader discretion is highly advised. Mature readers only._

* * *

**Chapter 20: Like Father, Unlike Daughter**

He felt her touch him softly on the shoulder. Normally this would have comforted him but now it only complicated matters. He had not wanted her to know, but when she had attacked him it had triggered the nanoattrioids and his brain had felt on fire again.  
He shrugged her hand off.  
"Ty," she whispered hurt, confusion etched deep into her voice.  
"I'm him now," he stated in a soft but determined voice.  
"You're not him. You'll never be him," she protested vehemently.  
"But I am… He was me. And now I am him," he sighed.  
Had they tempted fate by taking their destinies into their own hands? The other Tyler had been secretly in love with her, never acting on it, never telling her, only to suffer in silence after she had died.  
"I can't be trusted anymore, Sarah," he added, unable to keep his voice from trembling.  
She kept silent as to where he had hoped that she would object to that statement, reassuring him that he could still be trusted.  
_"Sarah? It's been a long time since you addressed me that way," she sounded disappointed._  
He raised his head a little and looked at her shyly. She noticed and sent him a warm and comforting smile. Suddenly he knew: no one else called her Connor in the way he did. Connor was his pet name for her.  
"I'm sorry, Connor," he whispered.  
"Sorry for what?"  
"For addressing you with Sarah," he mumbled, averting his eyes again.  
"So? You do it all the time. It's either Sarah or Connor, and both are fine with me," she laughed with relief.  
"But you just said," he began, only to realize that it had been a shard of his nightmare.  
"I said what?" She urged when he remained quiet.  
"Nothing," he muttered. "It's all in my head."

Lucy wandered through the halls and tunnels of the Base. The first and only time she had been here before, had been a few hours after the siege.  
As she progressed to the deeper tunnels where the private quarters of the troops were, she heard the voice of Sergeant Rooker call for a young Rook and her: "Peterson, Owens, I need a hand here!" It was after he had found the body of a woman in her early fifties buried under beams and other debris for the most part.  
It messed with her mind to see that this Base bustling with activity and she wasn't really paying attention to where she was going until she bumped into a young girl.  
"O'Conlin," she muttered confused when she recognized the girl.  
She had never known that her good friend and sister in arms had lived on IT Base.  
"Do I know you?" Robin asked frankly, staring at her.  
She looked at the girl again and smiled vaguely: "No, but I heard a lot of good things about you."  
It was the truth in a way, only it wasn't heard but witnessed. O'Conlin had been an excellent fighter and a strategic master mind. When the General had sent Rooker's team to the fallen base, he had pulled O'Conlin from the team. At that time, she hadn't understood why but now she understood. If O'Conlin had lived here, this would have been the worst place to be send to after the machines had overrun it. It had been a complete massacre.  
"Yeah, right," Robin shook her head. "Must be my dad you're talking about… The great hero."  
She frowned at the disdain with which O'Conlin had said 'my dad' and 'the great hero'. Who was her dad? It couldn't be the General because she remembered O'Conlin telling her that her father had died when she had been a girl. O'Conlin's father had been a hard and distant man, who had only trained and educated her but had never been willing to spend time with her aside from that, on a personal level.  
"Lieutenant Colonel Devlin?" She hazarded a guess.  
"Who else?"

Sarah had known that not a thousand of carefully chosen words could have ever reassured him so she had shown him. Slowly she had gotten to her feet and had held out her hand to him. All words would turn out to be superficial or superfluous. He had let her help him up and she had gently pulled him with her to her bed.  
Now he lay with his face half buried in her hair, his right arm casually across her chest, his right knee pressed firmly against her right thigh. Absentmindedly she caressed his right forearm, sometimes gently scratching him. He needed to know that she was still there with him. It had not been the most romantic encounter she'd had with him. In his desperate passion he had been selfish and had only sought his own pleasure. Still there was a deep feeling of satisfaction burning inside her.  
Carefully she turned her head a little and looked at the right side of his face, at the scar that ran from just above his eyebrow to just a little below his cheekbone. In another four years he would get a new even more distinctive scar that would run across his left cheek.  
She removed her hand from his forearm and brought it up to his face, running her index finger along the ridge of the scar. He had so many scars, so many visual reminders of battles won and lost, of escapes from and raids on Skynet death camps. Nevertheless the latest scar wasn't visible. It was a fault line across his soul, where it would only take so much for it to rupture and unleash the machine that now lay in waiting inside of him. Knowing that the machine would never leave him, tears began to well in her eyes. It had been a very long time since she had really cried and there was nothing she would like to do more than have a good cry right this instance but it would wake him up and cause him to worry about her. She had not even cried when she had thought that he was dead or had that been because she could not cry? As if she had been out of tears to shed.  
"So much pain," she whispered barely audible, tracing another scar that ran over his shoulder with her fingertips.  
He began to stir a little: "It comes with the territory," he muttered drowsily, slowly rolling onto his back before turning on his other side.  
"But the nano's, Ty?" She sighed, trying to hide her disappointment from her voice now that the intimacy was gone.  
"Don't worry… I'll deal with it," he sounded very sleepy.  
She reached out to him, tenderly touching him just below his shoulder blades. With him, she didn't have to be the badass soldier who could kick anybody's ass, human or tin man. He knew her like no one else had known her before. Her darkest secrets, her deepest fears, they would always be safe with him. Suddenly she felt stupid for being jealous like that. Of course he would never do such a thing, and certainly not to her.  
"I'm sorry too," she whispered, sliding over so she could cuddle up to him, hoping to find back of the earlier intimacy.

"Sir, can I talk to you?" Lucy asked when she ran into Tyler on her way to the command center the next late afternoon.  
"What is it, Sergeant Owens?" Tyler asked, stopping in his tracks.  
"It's about O'Conlin, sir," she answered in a soft voice so only he would hear.  
"What about her?"  
"She doesn't like you very much, sir," she replied, looking at the floor just in front of her feet.  
"So?"  
"I know that it is none of my business, sir. But she needs a father, and not a teacher."  
"How would you know? And you're right, it is none of your business," he grumbled.  
"Sir, she," she paused to find the right words. "She'll be my friend, sir. And she'll hate you."  
"And what do you want me to do about that, Sergeant Owens?"  
"Maybe you could spend some time with her, sir?"  
"I already spend enough time with her," he answered gruffly.  
"That's not what I meant, sir. With all due respect, she does not need a mentor. She needs a father," she said intimidated.  
"And what does she want me to do as her father? Book a nice family trip to Disney World? Have I got news for you: Disney World doesn't exist anymore. It's been wiped off the face of the earth on April twenty-first, two thousand-eleven."  
"Just try to find something in common, sir," she offered hopeful.

A week later, it was a cold and clear night. An almost arctic wind swept through the streets of the ruined city. Snow flakes danced, mingled with the dust, in the harsh wind. The nuclear winter after Judgment Day had changed the climate drastically. In the old world, this time of year would be marked by nice temperatures and sunshine, but in the new world it was hellishly cold. It was a lifeless world, emphasized by the presence of the machines, lifeless beings on their own. They had no soul, no feelings for their prey or victim. They hunted and killed without guilt or regret.  
The wind faded and picked up again. Swirls of snow danced over the white blankets that covered the street and the ruins of the tall buildings that had once determined the skyline of Los Angeles. On the rooftops of one of the buildings mostly intact stood a man and a young girl, watching the night sky for aerial recon units.

"It all came down to a Thursday in April," the man told the young girl. "Just your ordinary week day, people went about to do their daily things. We took everything for granted, our empty and pathetic little lives filled with insignificant events and useless things, depending on the ever advancing technology to improve our standards of life… An ordinary day, except for the part that it would become the day the world would come to an end. You're too young to remember how the skies caught fire and how flaming waves swept across the surface of the earth, wiping out most of the world population."  
The young girl hung her head and looked at her gloved hands. The light shrugging of her shoulders told him that she was fighting back her emotions.  
"The few who survived that day saw the rise of the machines. It started with only a few of those bastards, but soon you saw metal everywhere. Built to hunt and kill the survivors of the day Skynet seized control over the world," he continued. "It makes no sense to Skynet that we keep on fighting for a better tomorrow. It is sentient but it does not understand the first thing about the humans. It knows feelings like fear, anger, accomplishment, but it cannot combine it to the very thing that makes us humans tick. It doesn't understand that facing defeat will make us chase victory even more."  
The young girl nodded slowly, raised her head a little and looked at the man shyly. Her attention was drawn by the low grumblings of turbines and she looked up to see a drove of a.r.u.'s fly by. Steel birds on their way to the numerous battlefields of that cold winter night. Just like the man she was fascinated by the sport of a.r.u. surfing, one of the few things they had in common. With the difference that he was skilled at it and this would be the first time for her. She was two years younger than the average age for joining the Resistance but already she knew more, had seen more than most Rooks.  
She looked at the man again, at the scars in his face, the one that drew down from his brow to his cheekbone catching her attention again. She didn't want to stare at it, because it was rude but it was hard to not to.  
"You ready?" He asked while he got ready.  
She nodded and copied his actions. Counting back from five, the run and jump off of the edge roof. Panic welled in the pits of her stomach when she couldn't get a grip on the rough metal surface and started to slip. His hand closed around her wrist. With a firm tug he pulled her into safety.  
"That's why I don't wear gloves," he grumbled, sending her a dark look.  
"Sorry, sir," she muttered. "It won't happen again."  
"It better not. I might not be there to catch you before you fall to your death," he said matter-of-factly, ripping open the hatch to expose the electronics.  
"I understand, sir," she nodded.  
A big grin spread across his face and his eyes started to sparkle when he looked at her again: "Let's have some fun!"


	22. Chapter 21: The Mists Of Battle

**Chapter 21: The Mists Of Battle**

The next two years were marked by fierce battles and huge losses on both sides, but Skynet was starting to lose ground. While John and Tyler organized and re-orgarnized, structured and restructured the growing Human Resistance, the confidence of the resistance fighters and the civilians in the human victory grew and grew. John lead Tech-Com. Tyler lead IntelliTech. Their combined forces dealt blow after blow to Skynet's forces, and it responded by increasing the output of armed units, intensifying the hunt on the remaining humans, reinventing itself and its units.  
From things as small as instating a military uniform for the refs to as big as reinforcing bunkers and bases, the Human Resistance had become a well-oiled machine. Civilians volunteered for the most menial of all jobs to take the load off of the refs, now that the humans looked like they could be winning and they were more than willing to help out where they could.

Catherine walked up to her commanding officer for confirmation of a tactical strike he had ordered on a prisoner transport just south of Century. Colonel Tyler Devlin stood at his desk, his fists leaning on the rough surface of the top while he checked the big wall screen for the latest recon updates which flashed up every so often.  
"A.T. Alpha and Bravo are in position, sir," she said firmly.  
"A.T. Charlie?" He asked slowly.  
"They caught fire, sir. One of the Rooks. The safety was off, the weapon went off by accident and revealed their position," she answered.  
"Which team is the closest?" The look on his face was darkening.  
Assault Team Charlie was Sergeant Owens' team for the night, and one of the Rooks on the team tonight was the Colonel's daughter.  
She looked at the last charts: "That would be Foxtrot, sir. Delta is the closest after them."  
"Deploy Foxtrot. Tell Jenkins to move closer but let him sit tight at fifty," he instructed her. "Alpha and Bravo should sit tight."  
"Yes, sir."  
She hurried back to her desk and gave out the new instructions to the involved assault teams, with the exception of assault team Charlie. No matter how hard she tried, she could not connect through to team leader Owens to tell her reinforcements were on their way.  
She glanced at Tyler who was studying the plans of the raid on the prisoner transport again. He was looking at the options, trying to find a way to bring down the body count.  
"Delta in, Jenkins here," she heard over the line. "We will move to fifty and sit tight. Delta out."  
"B-One in. Affirmative, Delta. Foxtrot in, Delta will move to fifty. B-One out."  
"Foxtrot in. We have a visual of Charlie," another voice reported over the line.  
"B-One in. Update on situation?" She asked fearfully.  
"Charlie is surrounded."  
"Assessment?"  
"The only one to save them could be the Devil. Foxtrot out."  
"Alpha in. We heard. We can be there in four," a woman's voice reported in before Catherine could react.  
"B-One in. Ma'am," Catherine switched from speaker to headphone. "Sit tight."  
"Is he staring at the wall screen?"  
Catherine looked over her shoulder: "No, ma'am. He left the command center."  
"Alpha's moving in," the woman said matter-of-factly.  
"Ma'am? He won't like it," she muttered.  
"It's his kid in the crossfire," the woman responded.  
"I'm sure he's well aware of that fact, ma'am," she stated, looking up when the door to the command center was opened again.  
In walked Tyler, dressed in his standard combat uniform. She smiled faintly. Despite the instated military uniform dress code, he had to differ from the rest.  
"Uhm, ma'am. It looks like he's gonna go solo," she quickly added before he would be within hearing range.  
"Goddamnit!"  
"You want to tell him to sit tight, ma'am?" She asked.  
"Like he'll listen."  
"Probably not, ma'am. But you said it yourself… It's his kid in the crossfire."  
She looked at him while he uploaded the necessary information to his communication system. She had always thought that he had to be the craziest son of a bitch who had ever walked the earth, but in the past two years his insanity had grown and grown. He was known to walk the day, which came down to him going out during broad daylight and made him an easy target but he always came home.  
The most wondrous of his changes was that he could sustain injuries that would kill any other human and completely recover from it within a few days. A deep wound one night would be a new scar the next. She knew that he had almost died two years ago, only surviving by a miracle.  
During his down-time on Base he was an entirely different person too. Before he could go on rants about the stupidity of the troops, but now he was laidback and did not let the pressure get to him. The few times he had looked like he could blow a fuse, he had gone out only to return a few hours later with a few metal skulls and a handful of chips.  
She had asked Sarah about those changes a few times but the only answer she had ever gotten was a slight shrug of the shoulder. All the while Sarah had to know what had happened to him. Sarah and Tyler were recon partners, best friends, lovers, and for some reason Catherine thought that they were something of husband and wife too.  
A wedding and marriage weren't the same thing as in the old world. In the old world there would have been a lot of buzz, a big ceremony with the exchange of vows and rings. In the new world it was as simple as the exchange of dog tags. Marriage in the traditional way held no more meaning, no more painful divorces, just returning the dog tags and it would all be over.  
A few months ago, after Tyler had gotten him into El Mercado in Boyle Heights to help prisoners escape, she had called Sarah to her desk to discuss a recon report that had worried her. When Sarah had leaned over to check the report on the small computer screen, Catherine could have sworn that it had not been 'Gen. S.J. Connor, G-C-0-0-1-7-2' on the little metal plate but 'Col. T.J. Devlin, J-S-4-9-7-2-8'.  
Nevertheless she had only seen it in a flash, or maybe it had been just wishful thinking. Before she had the chance to check it, Sarah had already tugged it away. Not that it would surprise her: Tyler and Sarah had been a couple for eight years now. Even if the definition of marriage had changed after the disappearance of the old world, it showed that they were genuinely committed to each other.  
The past two years had brought another change, between Tyler and the O'Conlin – girl. He had tried to let go off the drill instructor attitude towards the girl and tried to act more like a father. In some areas the changes had been successful, in other areas they had been nothing short of a disaster. Tyler was a fighter, not a father, but at least he tried. Catherine's father had never tried.  
"Be safe, sir," she said when it looked like he was ready to go out.  
"Ryan," he motioned her to come over.  
"Sir?"  
"Keep me informed on that area," he told her, pointing at a northern area on the large wall screen.  
She frowned: the area was nowhere near where A.T. Charlie was pinned down.  
"You suspect something, sir?"  
"I'm not sure yet," he answered before checking his battlefield equipment one last time.

Tyler stood on top of a huge pile of rubble and slowly turned a full circle to take in the numerous battlefields all around him. Thick mists of battle reached for the sky. The sky was filled with droves of a.r.u.'s.  
For a moment, he thought about hitching a ride, immediately dismissing it. He had gone out to save Sergeant Owens and her team, not to have fun.  
He hooked his sunglasses up to his communication gear and read the latest input. No storm coming in the quadrant he had told Ryan to keep an eye on as of yet. It weren't really sunglasses, it was a little invention he had worked on for a few months, designed to keep informed on the latest recon reports, added a few features and it had become a handy little thing. Switching from regular view to infra-red to nightvision to binoculars at one touch. Had the other Tyler taken the time to invent such helpful gadgets?  
During the years of war, the thought of the other Tyler had begun to fade, but since he had been infected by the nanoattrioids, the other Tyler had been lurking in the back of his mind. He hadn't gone on an insane rampage yet, but he felt like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off any second.  
Forcing himself to stay cool equalled forcing the nano's to keep calm and not rear their ugly little metal heads. So far he had managed not to go violently insane.  
He would have headaches, like his mind was being severely shocked by currents of electricity, and he would go out, whether it being day or night, to kill a few metal heads with his bare hands. It brought down the increasing pressure on his mind, never leaving him completely. With the nanoattrioids deeply embedded into his brain and nerve system he knew that the machine would never leave him ever again.

"Lucy," Robin motioned her team leader to come over to her side. "Ghost's been signalling us with a flash light," she pointed to a distant ruin.  
Lucy heaved a deep sigh: "What she want?"  
"She asked if hell has broken loose yet," she answered. "I don't understand."  
"It means that we fucked up," Lucy snorted. "I should've known better than to bring a couple of Rooks… I never expected you would do such a stupid thing, O'Conlin."  
The harshness in Lucy's voice sent a stab of sadness through her and she felt her lower lip tremble: "I said I was sorry," she mumbled upset.  
"Well, sorry doesn't cut it," Lucy grumbled. "Of all the Rooks, it had to be you, and now we're fucked."  
The light flashed on and off, giving a new message: T_h_e_d_e_v_i_l_i_s_c_o_m_i_n_g.  
She wrote it down quickly and read the words aloud: "The Devil is coming?"  
Lucy snorted with contempt: "That's our only luck tonight. Any other team catching fire, and he would have left them to die. We're in luck," she said sarcastically. "Daddy's coming to bail you out."  
"Well, I didn't ask him, did I?" She suddenly found her composure back and glared at Lucy.  
"No, you didn't. It's just convenient," Lucy answered haughtily. "But you know as well as I do that he's not coming for us, but only to keep her from entering the fight."  
As quickly as she had regained her composure, as quickly it disappeared again: "You lie!" She exclaimed with a trembling voice.  
"Of course I lie. That's why I told your daddy to spend time with you, so at least you would know him… In my time you hated his guts because he was never there, because he was a hard and distant man who would not give you the time of day. He was the great and forever missed Devil, and you were just his kid. Always living in his shadow, always reminded of the man he had been… You fucked up, kid."  
She stared at Lucy in shock. It was true that she had a difficult relationship with her father. He was indeed a cold and distant man, especially when you had done something wrong, but she knew that he had his good qualities too. He had taught her a.r.u.-surfing. He would come and tell her about the old world from time to time, despite the fact that he wasn't a man of many words. He would limit what he said to a minimum but challenged her at the same time by using difficult words that could be considered outdated in the new world.  
"I thought you were my friend," she mumbled confused, keeping her eyes on the distant ruins in case there would be a new message from Ghost.  
"I am your friend. On Base. But out here, it's an entirely different ball game, girly. I cannot in good conscience let a team get wiped out because we're friends. So listen and understand: in the field, I'm your team leader and on base I'm your friend. Is that understood, Rook O'Conlin?"  
"Yes, Lucy," she muttered intimidated.  
She caught the eyebrow rise Lucy sent her and she immediately corrected herself: "Yes, Sergeant Owens."

She looked at her mentor and smiled shyly. Could he tell? Could he tell that she had a teenage crush on him? Or was he oblivious to it?  
She had known him since her first stay in Century after she had been caught trying to find some food for her family. He had called her Alley in a such a heart-warming and fatherly fashion in an attempt to comfort her.  
Nevertheless she was only 16 and he was already 32. Twice her age. He had seen so much already, lived through so much already. Just like the man who had helped her escape from Forrester.  
But unlike the man who had jumped ship with her, he did not scare her. He was a withdrawn man, who would have a brooding look on his face almost all of the time, and she always wondered what went on in his mind, what decisions he was contemplating. It had to be so hard to make decisions about life and death, about loss and victory, in a place like this. She couldn't hardly remember anything from the old world, and what she could remember came to her in shards of dreams and nightmares.  
It had to be extremely lonely and difficult to be John Connor. She looked at him again and felt countless butterflies fly nervously in all directions in her stomach. Underneath all the scars hid a handsome man, a caring man whose life had been determined by the future he had been told about by people who had come back through time to protect him and his mother.  
His mother, the legendary Sarah Connor, sounded like a person to fear and never to say no to, but she had gone missing in action days after Judgment Day. His good friend, Colonel Tyler Devlin, hardly ever stopped by at Home Plate and defied his orders every chance he got. She knew that something had happened between John and Tyler, that had caused a rift between them on a personal level. She had asked John about it but he had never given her a straight answer, only that he had done an unforgiveable thing to Tyler.

"What the hell?!" Lucy exclaimed when two explosions close by threw her back against the rubble wall. "Everybody alright?"  
"Yeah," Robin, who had been only three feet away from her, coughed.  
"I'm alright," Private Lamont breathed a little to her left.  
One by one the members of her team confirmed that they were fine. Thick smoke rose to the sky and she could hardly see anything. She could hear the distinct sound of metal colliding with metal. It could not be a h.c.c.u. gone good, could it? There were a few infiltration units on Base, shut down, waiting to be reprogrammed by Colonel Devlin, all T-600's. Rubber balls.  
The smoke thickened as the wind blew it over them, and she thought that she could make out a huge form coming through the mists of battle. Quickly she pointed her plasma rifle at the figure, only to discover that it was Colonel Devlin holding his plasma rifle in one hand, a metal bar in the other.  
"Sir?" She asked impressed.  
"Like you didn't know I was coming," he growled. "Situation update?"  
"We managed to hold the cans off, sir," she quickly answered. "But we're surrounded on all sides."

Sarah lowered her binoculars and sighed annoyed. The bellowing smoke made it impossible to see what was going on at Charlie's sector. She had seen him approach and assess the situation. Now it was impossible to see what went down.  
"You okay, ma'am?" Corporal Lee asked concerned.  
"I'm fine," she grumbled, bringing the binoculars to her eyes again.  
"What the hell is going on down there?" Corporal Lee enquired.  
"How the fuck should I know? It's a goddamn smoke screen," she growled annoyed.  
"It's him, isn't it, ma'am? The Devil, he who walks the day?"  
"What is this? Twenty questions?"  
"Sorry, ma'am," he muttered intimidated.  
She didn't have the patience for this. He was out there, trying to save team Charlie. It should have been so easy. Just a standard raid on a prisoner transport. In and out. He had stayed in to analyse recon and battle reports since whispers in the tunnel had said that Skynet was up to something. This would not have happened if he had been there right from the start.  
She wanted to blame Sergeant Owens because she had seen who the Rook was who had messed up. O'Conlin was his daughter, and she felt it was her duty to keep an eye on her if he wasn't around.  
She shook her head wearily. Of all the Rooks on Owens' team, it had to be O'Conlin who had made that costly mistake.

"No, Reese," John answered darkly.  
"But I feel he will be a real asset to my crew," Derek stated firmly. "Palters has proven that he can handle himself in battle."  
"He's a packrat," John grumbled. "What the fuck does he know about battle? Only because he happened to be there and helped you and your brother out because you'd gotten yourself into trouble at the Hills again."  
"Theo Palters is a good kid, sir," Derek said convinced.  
John shook his head. How could he ever explain to Derek that Palters would be the one who would bring down the secret Base of IntelliTech because of a crush? That Palters would betray all who lived at IT Base in exchange for his life? That Palters would kill his mother and leave his friend to fight for his life again?  
"Are you still seeing Baxter?" He asked.  
"Yes, sir," Derek grinned sheepishly. "I asked her to wear my dog tag but she said that she needed time to think about it."  
"Then no, you cannot add Palters to your team."  
"But, sir, I don't understand. With all due respect, sir, but what does have Palters have to do with me seeing Robin? Did something happen between them?"  
"Not yet," John answered cryptically. "Not for another two years," he added in an inaudible whisper.  
"Sir? Are you asking me to choose between my girlfriend and someone who could be a damn fine fighter?"  
John took a deep breath and slowly nodded: "I guess I am."  
He knew that he was forcing another chance in the course of the future, but he had to. If he didn't then in two years IntelliTech Base would fall, his mother would die and the Devil would be reborn. Without Robin Baxter to catch his eye, Theo Palters would not follow her to the secret base and he could never betray them.  
"Sir, you cannot possibly ask that from me," Derek exclaimed frustrated.  
"Fine, add him to your team, keep Baxter as your girlfriend, but know that I will hold you responsible for what happens from now on," John said calmly, already having made up his mind.  
He knew his Uncle's stubborn streak. He had seen it when he had still been a teen. There was only one way to stop this part from the future from happening. He knew that Tyler knew the name of the traitor of IT as well, and he would tell him of the latest addition to Reese's team. Enemy fire, friendly fire, the line wasn't always clear.

Robin listened at the door for a few seconds. Her father had called off the entire operation and they had returned home just about an hour ago. She had heard Lucy take the blame for what had gone wrong, but guilt had started eating away at her. She was the daughter of Colonel Devlin. She was expected to do the right thing.  
Now she had to make sure that she wasn't interrupting something. It was something she had learned in an embarrassing way when she had walked in on her father and his girlfriend on a late morning. It had been one of the most embarrassing moments in her life. Just like now she had wanted to talk to him about something she had done wrong.  
She checked again: only low voices, talking. Hesitantly she knocked on the door and waited for the gruffly spoken "Enter!" from either one before opening the door and entering the room.  
Her father was sitting on the bed, shirtless, while Sarah was tending to his new set of wounds. She winced when he hissed of pain.  
"Serves you right, Ty," Sarah chastised him. "Stop taking on taking tin cans with a metal rod."  
"All work and no play makes Ty a dull boy," he quipped. "Whaddya want, kid?" He asked, turning towards her suddenly.  
"Sir, I don't know what Lucy told you about what happened," she answered, looking at the floor.  
"Sergeant Owens said that Rook Tanner got startled and pulled the trigger. That it was her fault because she should've warned you beforehand."  
"It's not true, sir. It was me who pulled the trigger, sir," she whispered.  
She kept staring at the floor while she waited for his reaction.  
"I see," he said after a long moment of silence.  
His voice was flat, without any emotion.  
"I'm sorry, sir. I thought that you should know before-"  
"You know that your stupidity just bought me another ticket to Century, don't you? That at least forty people might die because you were stupid and didn't think," he interrupted her. "What the hell were you thinking, Robin? Your goddamn team could've been wiped out. Haven't you learned anything the past few years?"  
Tears welled in her eyes: "I'm so sorry, sir," she said with a trembling voice. "I know I messed up and I'm so sorry."  
"Sorry's just not good enough, kid… I'm sending you to Home Plate. Maybe C can teach you a thing or two because you obviously don't want to learn anything from me," he growled furiously.  
"Sir? Dad?" She pleaded with him.  
"Dismissed, Rook O'Conlin."  
She wanted to protest. She wanted to beg him to let her stay, to promise him that she would never mess up again, but it would all be to no avail. After wiping the tears from her eyes, she saluted him, turned around and left his room in a hurry.  
"Weren't you a little harsh on the girl?" She heard Sarah ask when she stood still for a second while trying to decide what to do next: pack her things or talk to her friend Lucy, hoping she could comfort her. But Lucy had been less than friendly towards her out on the battlefield, and she did not expect any sympathy from her friend on base. So she turned and headed towards her room.


	23. Chapter 22: History Repeats Itself

**Caution:** _May contain what could be considered explicit content. Reader discretion is highly advised. Mature readers only._

* * *

**Chapter 22: History Repeats Itself**

"Ghost!" Tyler exclaimed while he watched the servo-drone factory collapse after the explosion.  
He hadn't seen her come out of the building. His heart sank into his shoes. She had insisted on placing the explosives along with Jenkins. He should've done it.  
"Connor!" He yelled, jumping over the wall of rubble and debris, not caring for his own safety.  
He started running, the dusty hot air from the explosions burning in his lungs, deaf to the calls of his team members.  
"Major General Devlin!" Second Lieutenant Ryan called after him, laying cover fire as he sprinted towards the entrance of the collapsed building. "Incoming birds!"  
He didn't notice the drove of a.r.u.'s approaching and descending to start their attack.  
"Connor!" He boomed when he reached where the main entrance of the servo-drone factory had been.  
His heart was pounding erratically in his chest, feeling close to exploding: "Connor!" He repeated.  
She could be anywhere, buried under the debris, wounded or maybe even dead. He immediately pushed the thought of her being dead from his mind. She was alive, she had to be alive.  
"Connor!" He kept repeating as he started to dig through the rubble.  
In the vague distance he could hear Second Lieutenant Ryan call her orders: "Take those damn birds down!"  
It rained metal on him when the first rpg hit the a.r.u. closest by and caused it to explode mid-air. Hot pieces of shrapnel scorched his skin but he didn't feel it. The need to find her blocked out all his thoughts, all his senses. His hands were raw and cut from the pieces of debris he tossed aside while digging through the rubble.  
Another explosion over his head, another shower of metal. It didn't hurt him. It drove him to dig faster and faster. Finding her. He had to find her.

Robin Baxter looked at the tormented man who sat on a chair by the door. He sat bent over forwards, his bloody right hand pressed against his forehead, his wounded fingers buried in locks of dusty, wavy hair. Her heart ached for him. Invincible, legendary for his wild escapes and daring stunts, reduced to a pile of despair and heartache.  
She cleared her throat in the hopes he would look up. He didn't.  
"Tyler," she said softly, slowly walking up to him.  
"Just give it to me straight," he said firmly. "She didn't make it, did she?"  
She heard the tremor of restrained emotion in his voice and a stab of sadness shot through her heart and soul.  
"She did, Tyler. Barely but she did."  
He finally looked up at her and the sad look in his eyes almost caused her to dissolve into tears. She knew that he really loved Sarah Connor, and by now she had come to realize that Sarah Connor loved him back. He was not a boy toy. Maybe the change of heart had come when Derek Reese had started to show interest in her? And had all her grudges against Sarah been indeed based on jealousy?  
"Come on," she said in a soft voice after placing her hand on his shoulder in a motherly fashion. "Let me take a look at those hands of yours."  
He looked at his hands, at the back and at the palms: "They're fine," he grumbled annoyed.  
"Let me have a look," she said sternly, taking his hands in hers.  
He pulled them back: "I said, they're fine."  
"I'll let you sit with her?" She offered in return.

She watched him as he sat on his side of the bed pulling his right feet up to tie the laces of his boots. There was still so much she wanted to tell him, so much she needed to say to him. It was the early evening of December 3rd, 2025 and time was running out for them. By this time tomorrow IntelliTech Base would have perished in the flames, Tyler would be fighting for his life once again and she would be dead.  
It didn't matter that he had killed who would be the traitor of IT Base. She had learned the hard way that despite the change in the course of events certain things would still happen. They had never been able to stop Skynet and Judgment Day, only delay it. Tyler, back then TJ, had called it the inevitability of the future. They could change it all they wanted it would still come.  
Lazily she reached out to him, touching him softly on the small of his back. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. It was a sad smile and she knew it was because he knew that this had been their last afternoon together.  
For seventeen years he had been her friend. For twelve years he had been her protector. For ten years he had been her lover and for three years he had been her 'husband'. She had always worn his dog tags with pride but now she took them off and held them out to him.  
His answer was a single nod, after which he took her dog tags off and held them out to her. She could see the tears glisten in the corners of his eyes, as to where her tears were running freely down her cheeks. It was a necessary 'divorce'. He needed to be free to fulfil the rest of his destiny, she needed to be free to fulfil the last part of her destiny.  
"No fate but what we make," she whispered tearfully while she took her dog tags back and put them on.  
"No fate but what we make," he repeated, showing a faint smile before looking around for a T- shirt.

He tried to memorize everything. How her sharp outlets of breath caressed his ear. How her fingers dug deep into the flesh of his back. The softness of her lips as they pressed against his in a passionate kiss. The silkiness of her skin as she pressed her body firmly against his in their lover's play.  
Not wanting to miss anything, he opened his eyes a little and looked at her face. Without giving it a second thought, he reached for her eye patch and removed it.  
"Ty," she murmured, turning her head away immediately. "Don't."  
He knew she did it so he would not see the scars the explosion at the servo-drone factory had left.  
"I wanna see you," he whispered while he brought his hand up to her chin and turned her face back to him. "I wanna see you and remember," he whispered, cupping her face in his hands before kissing her softly again. "I love you, Connor. I always will," he breathed.  
She opened her right eye and looked at him: "Promise me, Ty," she said softly.  
"Anything," he said sincerely.  
"Promise me that you will tell me," she sighed. "Don't become him in that sense too."  
He rested his forehead against hers and took a deep breath before saying: "I will."  
It was a promise he could never keep, he already knew. It was not his destiny to tell her in the past. If he were to tell her, it would unnecessarily complicate matters. He would not be sent back to love her, but to ensure the future. He would die while protecting her, TJ and John from Skynet and its toys.  
Her hands slid from his upper back to his behind, gently urging him to continue their lover's play. More words wasted would be superfluous. He kissed her again, long and hard, unspoken findings of despair and love. Reaching for her hands, their fingers lacing together, he loved her.

She opened the top drawer of her desk and took out a small box. After placing it on her desk, she opened it and started sifting through the small metal plates until she found what she had been looking for. A small metal plate with the text 'MG. T.J. Devlin, J-S-4-9-7-2-8' written on it. She had worn it for a less than a year until he had made Lieutenant General.  
Now they were 'divorced'. They had said goodbye three times. Three times they had ended up making love to each other, like there would be no tomorrow. In her case that would be all too true. There would be no tomorrow for her. There would be no tomorrow for him either. She had known him and she had known the other Tyler. They weren't the same and yet they could not have been more alike.  
"Be safe, Devlin," she whispered after putting the tag back in the box and closing the lid.  
A loud explosion rocked the tunnel complex of IntelliTech Base and she heaved a sigh of defeat. It had begun.

His heart stopped beating when he reached what once had been the hidden entrance of IntelliTech Base. Clouds of black and dark gray smoke rose from the gaping hole. Cries and noise of battle rose to the surface.  
It had happened. He had killed the future traitor, and yet it still had happened. For a second he looked at the sky. The morning was already coming, the dawn already setting in. IntelliTech Base had fallen. Seven years it had been their safehouse. Seven years it had been hidden out of sight, untraceable from the ground and the sky. Now it lay exposed, like a dragon's mouth from which flames and smoke were spewed.  
He looked at the metal bar in his left hand before looking at the plasma rifle in his right hand. He could walk away, already knowing the outcome of the battle. She would die. His friends, his troops would die. But it wasn't the 'prophecy'. It wasn't the promise that he had made to John to keep Sarah safe all those years ago.  
The nanoattrioids, they made him stronger. He wasn't anything like the other Tyler, who had been a weakling. The other Tyler, who could be as strong as a tin man, had been weak this morning, only to fight for his life when it had been too late to change a thing.  
Without giving it another thought he jumped down the steps. H.c.c.u.'s and infiltrators left and right. He swung the metal bar, knocking back a few enemy units before frying their electronic circuits with well-placed NNEMP rounds from "Metal Ripper". After John had ordered the destruction of "Peacekeeper" he had gotten himself a new weapon, a SKN-80Watt plasma gun, and had modified it to meet his demands.  
It was pandemonium in the hallways and the command center. His troops were fighting the machines, holding them back from the tunnels anyway they could. Thick mists swirled ominously over the floor and he tripped over something while dodging a laser charge. Losing his footing, he let go of the metal bar to break his fall and not lose "Metal Ripper". The bar clattered on the floor, disappearing in the mists.  
"Damnit," he hissed through gritted teeth while he looked back to see what had caused him to fall.  
"Sorry, sir," Sergeant First Class Lucy Owens panted.  
She was breathing hard and irregularly. He examined her quickly. Blood seeped through her fingers where she kept her hands pressed firmly against her abdomen. Carefully he pulled one hand away and saw that she had taken a direct hit in the stomach area and was now keeping her intestines from spilling out with her hands.  
"Metal everywhere," she breathed, her face drawn up in pain. "An explosion… Safe door… They overran us… I'm… so… sorry…, sir."  
"There's nothing to be sorry about, Owens," he said in palliation.  
"I… took… out two… before… they… got me…, sir," she mumbled.  
"You did good," he stated while he surveyed the battles going on around him.  
He was presented with two options: he could let nature take its course or he could be merciful and end it right here and now for her. It was only a matter of time before she would die. After taking a deep breath, he reached for his sidearm and pulled it out.  
He could feel her eyes rest on the hand gun: "Thank… you…, sir," she started to cough up more and more blood.  
"No, thank you, Sergeant First Class, for coming back through time and saving my sorry ass," he stated sincerely, keeping any other emotion from his voice.  
"Be… safe…, sir."  
Slowly bringing the gun up to the side of her head, he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out and immediately drowned in the noise of the ongoing battles. It had not been his first mercy kill, having been an Undertaker, but each and every mercy kill had gnawed at his soul. He could kill traitors, like Palters, without so much as blinking, but a mercy kill was something entirely different.  
"I'm sorry, Owens," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. "I'm so sorry."  
He looked at her lifeless body propped up against the desk, reaching over to close her empty eyes forever.  
"I'm so sorry," he whisper again.  
Feeling dead calm all of a sudden, he reached for "Metal Ripper", rose to his feet and began firing NNEMP rounds at the h.c.c.u.'s and the infiltration units. All marksman shots to fry their circuits and keep them from entering the tunnels.  
"Fire in the hall!" First Lieutenant Ryan yelled a second before the room bathed in white light and was rocked by a small explosion.  
The small blast wave caused him to stumble a little. For a moment he was blinded by the light. A searing pain knocked him back to reality when he felt something hit him in the face. A piece of shrapnel cut deep and long in his left cheek.  
His brain began to feel as it were on fire again. Sharp short painful stabs of electricity caused him to fall on one knee and he pressed his left hand against the side of his head. The nanoattrioids were stirring now that he was injured. Normally he would have fought them off, but now he didn't have the time or the energy to do so.  
"Well, fuck, do your damn work then!" he growled when the stabs increased in length and intensity.  
Black fog rolled in, covering his thoughts and feelings. He could feel the glaring red eyes pierce right through him, and he allowed it.  
"Com'on then," he yelled to no one in particular while he channelled his energy and that of the nanoattrioids.  
His effort disconnected the last bit of humanity he had left. Was this his purpose? To call upon the enemy for the greater good? He let out a grim howl, causing the young Private closest to him to jump three feet in the air from fright.  
Acting a strange form of auto-pilot, he started taking out the machines that were between him and the entrance of the tunnel complex. One after another. He felt nothing anymore. No more anger, no more hate, as if he was void of any human emotion. He was one of them now, and his mission objective was to stop them and protect her at all costs.

"CONNOR?!" She heard him call for her.  
"TYLER?!" She shouted back when she heard his voice.  
Thick smoke from an explosion on the higher level drifted down the stairs to the deeper tunnels with the private quarters of the refs and civs on IntelliTech Base. A huge form rose up from the smoke and she aimed for its head. She knew that it could copy voices and she had to be sure that it was him and not an infiltrator.  
Some kind of relief sank in when she could see it was him. He was still alive, and she lowered her weapon after he smugly said: "Stand down, Connor."  
"Ty," she exclaimed when she saw the gash across his left cheek. "You're hurt!"  
She reached for his cheek to check the wound but he backed away. Only then she noticed. He was different.  
"Ty," she tried to breathe but the shock of his decision made it nearly impossible. "What did you do?"  
"What I had to do," he said monotonically. "We don't have time for this!"  
"How the fuck did those metal bastards know, Ty?" She asked furiously.  
"Don't know," he shook his head. "But we gotta get outta here! Blew up the place. Don't know how long."  
She followed his gaze as he looked over his shoulder into the clouds of smoke that still came drifting down the stairs.  
"Com'on, that way," he pointed at the end of the hallway with "Metal Ripper" before grabbing her by the arm. "We'll take thirteen."  
They ran straight out, turning left at the fourth hallway, then turning left again at the second, right at the seventh, straight until the end, knowing that exit thirteen was only two corners away.  
"Hurry, almost there," he panted, pushing her ahead of him.  
"Ty!"  
Around the corner came a huge man, carrying two plasma guns, almost identical to the one Tyler was carrying. She immediately raised her own rifle to take aim and take the infiltrator out. However by her sudden halt, Tyler ran into her and she missed the infiltrator's head by an inch. The shot took a large chunk out of the wall and the infiltrator looked at her with some curiosity. It looked like the twin brother of the two infiltrators that had been sent back to her past and her heart began to beat erratically. Maybe it was one of the two?  
Tyler came up beside her, with "Metal Ripper" ready to fire. The laser pointer of "Metal Ripper" was pointing just above the glaring red eyes of the machine. The NNEMP round that would set them free never came and she looked to her side to see Tyler toss it aside.  
He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him, stepping between her and the machine to act like a human shield. Her side began to burn a second after she had heard the familiar sound of a plasma gun being fired. The pain was excruciating and she let herself fall to her knees, dropping her plasma rifle, pressing her hands to her side. She could feel the warmth of her blood as it oozed through her fingers.  
"Connor," he exclaimed, his voice coming closer quickly. "Connor… No."  
She felt his arms come around her and she winced. He meant it so well, but the everlasting darkness was luring her, tempting her to come and feel nothing anymore.  
"No… No…," he repeated again and she could hear the emotions back in his voice.  
He had given in into the machine to try to save her and her nearing death would give him back his humanity. He could not save her, not now, but she could save him.  
"Ty?" She was startled by how far away she sounded.  
"Stay!" He ordered her sternly, his voice now brimming over with emotions.  
She opened her right eye and looked at him for one last time. The look on his face broke her heart but she couldn't stay. Her fight, her war was over. War's wounds had bled her dry. There would be no more words of comfort or forgiveness. She would see the end of the war that had started for her forty-one years ago.  
Even smiling hurt because it was a goodbye they both had known would come, and now that it was here it was crueller than she had ever imagined it could be.  
"I… love… you, Devlin," she coughed, tasting the vile taste of blood at the back of her throat.  
She saw him open his mouth, his lips were moving but death drowned out all sound. She clutched at his upper arms, trying to stay but the world was fading fast. Finally eternal darkness sank in.


	24. Chapter 23: Lucifer Fallen

**Chapter 23: Lucifer Fallen**

_When a rose dies, a thorn is left behind._ It was a quote from Ovidius that had popped into John Connor's head the moment the confirmation had come that IntelliTech Base had been under siege. It refused to leave because it could never be closer to the truth.  
His beloved mother, his best fighter was dead, and he had done nothing to prevent it. He could have ordered the evacuation of IntelliTech Base. The only thing he had done had been to give Tyler the name of the future traitor. And as to be expected, Tyler had killed the young man in cold blood right here at Home Plate.  
His best friend, and one of the best fighters after his mother, was fighting for his life once again. No mortal man could have survived the injuries Tyler had sustained in the early hours of this cold December day, but Tyler wasn't exactly any mortal man. The nanoattrioids had made him stronger, smarter, faster.  
A hundred thoughts accompanied by a thousand questions threw his mind into chaos. Could he ever have stopped it? And if Palters had not been able to betray IT Base, who had given its exact location away instead? Who had put the future, as he had been told, back on track?  
The idea of the nanoattrioids pushed itself prominently forwards in his thoughts. Had it been Tyler? Had he unknowingly given Skynet the coordinates to his own base? They knew so little about the nanoattrioids. What if Tyler had been a beacon for Skynet?  
"You okay, John?" Her gentle voice scattered his thoughts even more.  
He closed the communication line and slowly turned towards her: "I'm fine," he answered gruffly.  
He didn't care for the hurt look on her face. He didn't care that she looked like she could break down in tears at the harshness of his voice. He simply did not care anymore.

Whispers in the tunnel had told her of the fall of the Resistance most secret base, and she had gone to see if he needed something or would simply like some company. He was still her mentor. He was still her friend.  
"John," she said softly, hoping to keep her hurt from her voice. "Whatever happened at that Base, it wasn't your fault."  
"Yes, it was. I knew it would happen and I did nothing," he growled. "I let all those good people die because I thought I had fixed it."  
She remained silent and tried to figure out what she could possibly do or say to make him feel better. It hurt her immensely to see him so broken-hearted.  
"Goes to show that mom was right. No one is ever safe," he whispered, burying his face in his hands.  
"John," she mumbled upset because he was so upset.  
Her amorous feelings for him had not subsided over the years. In fact they had only grown stronger. She would lay awake during the afternoon, thinking about him, while her friends Luce and Robin giggled over boys and men. She would daydream about him, hoping that one day he would see how she really felt about him and that he would return those feelings.

His eyes snapped open and he blinked against the bright light streaming into the room through the small barred window. While trying to catch his breath now that he had reached the surface again, he took in his surroundings. He was in a small room, empty of all furnishings, except for a bed, a stainless steel sink, toilet and a metal mirror. White ceiling, white walls and polished white tile floor.  
"Sure took you a long time to wake," a familiar female voice said haughtily from across the room.  
He propped himself up on his elbows and looked into the direction the voice had come from. Against the wall leaned Sarah, dressed in a white tank top and white hospital pants, wearing white boat shoes without laces.  
"Connor?" He asked slowly, hoping his eyes were not deceiving him.  
She rolled her eyes and shook her head: "Who else?" She countered with a grim smile while she folded her arms across her chest.  
"What is this place?"  
"Silberman fried your brain again?"  
Silberman, her outfit, the cell. Pescadero State Hospital. Dr. Silberman had re-introduced E.C.T.1 to treat patients with acute schizo-affective disorder, something he had diagnosed Sarah with. She had told him about her electrifying experiences after he had been infected with the nanoattrioids.  
"No," he answered slowly. "Nano's."  
She heaved a deeply annoyed sigh and shook her head again: "Haven't you learned anything yet? Tell them what they want to hear, and they'll go easy on you."  
"Like you ever did that. You told the truth and they treated you if you were less than animal," he had said it before he had actually thought about it.  
"Stop talking about me in the past tense," she hissed suddenly, her green eyes intense and wild. "I hate it when you do that."  
Suddenly she became ultra-alert and turned her head to face the door: "The weasel's coming."  
Weasel. Silberman. Sarah had never had a kind word for the man, and after his own experiences with the doctor he could understand why.  
He looked at her again. She was in her late twenties, early thirties and his heart swelled with pain until it felt like it was going to burst. He had seen her die.  
"I guess visiting hours are over," she grumbled, taking a defence stance when keys in the lock could be heard.  
"Visiting hours?" He asked while he scratched himself behind his left ear.  
"The snake must have really fried your brains last time," she answered sarcastically.  
The door was opened and Dr. Silberman entered with four orderlies easing in behind him.  
"Easy, Connor, Devlin. Don't make a scene like last time now," Dr. Silberman said silkily. "I've already been kind enough to let you visit each other," he added with a sly, knowing smile. "No need for a long goodbye… Jeffrey, Douglas, will you escort Miss Connor back to her wing?"  
He watched as Sarah backed away into the furthest corner of the cell, the look of a cornered animal coming over her. Feral, focused on escaping this hellhole.  
"Come on now, Sarah. We don't want any trouble," Douglas smiled maliciously, taking the baton off of his belt. "Nice and easy."  
Tyler felt his temper rise as the orderly showed his authority by waving the baton at Sarah to provoke her. The two other orderlies approached him quickly, showing him their stun tazers in the hopes it would make him cooperate. His muscles tensed while he kept an eye on Douglas and Jeffrey, ready to attack them if they were to hurt her.  
"Douglas," Dr. Silberman chuckled amused. "No rousing the patients. Just bring Miss Connor back to her cell and make sure that she takes her meds."  
With these words, Dr. Silberman turned back and left the cell. Tyler had caught that twisted grin. That quack of a psychologist knew that the orderly named Douglas would make trouble. It would not even surprise him if the doctor had put Douglas up to it.  
"Come on now, Sarah. Let's go," Douglas grinned while he grabbed her firmly by the upper arm with his free hand and started pulling her with him.  
Instinctively Tyler jumped to his feet, only to be pushed back on the bed by the orderlies assigned to keep him under control. He looked from one orderly to the other. They had their drive stun tazers at hand, ready for anything he might try.  
"Let go of me!" Sarah hissed through gritted teeth while she tried to yank herself out of his grip.  
Without a signal upfront, Douglas pulled his hand with the baton back and took a hard swing at Sarah's stomach. She doubled over and fell to her hands and knees, gasping, struggling to catch a full breath.  
He caught the grimace on her face as she turned her head a little to look at him. With a loud howl he jumped up, punched the orderly closest to him square on the nose before hitting the other square on the jaw. Both orderlies went down like bricks. Douglas looked at him like deer caught in headlights when he glared at him.  
"Take on someone your own size," he growled furiously. "Well, at least someone more your size, fat ass."  
He was so focused on Douglas that he didn't notice Jeffrey take out his drive stun tazer and approach him. Douglas did a step back when he did a step forward, only to get a full blow from Jeffrey's nightstick in the stomach. Standing doubled over to catch his breathe, he soon felt a drive stun tazer being pushed right between his shoulder blades.  
A hundred-thousand Volts set his mind on fire, leaving his body writhing in pain. A set of glaring red eyes stared at him from an eternal darkness.

"Damn, he's strong!" Ethan exclaimed while he tried to keep their patient pinned to the makeshift operating table.  
"I could've told you that," Robin remarked wryly while she tightened the restraint over their patient's stomach again.  
"The nanoattrioids, right?" Ethan panted from his efforts.  
"Yes, we pumped him full of that shit four years ago, and now we're gonna pump him full of it some more," she grumbled annoyed.  
"You don't sound too happy about it," he sighed. "It will save him, you know that, don't you?"  
"I wish C would just let him die," she answered with a profound sadness in her voice.  
"Sounds harsh, but C wants him alive and kicking," he said slowly.  
"Like C even cares about him. Manipulative son of a bitch," she seethed through gritted teeth. "He knew this was coming and he did nothing."  
"Robin," he tried to call her to order when he caught one of the Privates looking very interested in the conversation.  
"I don't give a damn, Ethan. C is a manipulative, egotistical bastard, who doesn't give a rat's ass about the people who die and who will die for him."  
"Robin! Just listen to yourself. C gives us everything we need to save this guy and you go off on a rant-"  
"C needs this guy in the past. And it's not like he's gonna shoot me," she interrupted him while she tightened the restraints that bound their patient's legs to the table.  
"You don't know that," he sighed.  
"But I do. He won't shoot me because I still have a mission to accomplish," she said cynically.  
"Yeah, and as soon as you've saved this guy's life and he is out of the danger zone, C will put a bullet right between your eyes," he stated matter-of-factly.  
"Not if he wants this guy to become one of his best fighters, he won't," she countered in a knowing manner.  
He raised an eyebrow and looked at her curiously: "You really gonna let him die if C threatens to kill you?"  
"Let's say I know something that will keep me alive," she remarked cryptically before she turned to the curious Private and said. "You can tell your precious General that he is a selfish idiot."

When he came to again, he found himself shackled to the bed. The pale bluish moon cast its ghostly glow on the walls of the cell. Someone cupped his left cheek and he turned his head a little to see her sitting on the edge of the bed.  
"Connor?" He asked in a whisper.  
She showed him her slow smile, and his heart ached. He had no idea how he had ended up here but he knew that this world wasn't real. She had died in his arms.  
"Connor-"  
She pressed her index finger to his lips to quiet him: "Don't talk."  
Slowly she took her index finger away and leaned over him. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she silenced him with a kiss. It felt like someone pulled a band over his chest and started to tighten it. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes. This was not real: she was gone. She was gone for good.  
"You're a trickster," he panted as the band on his chest withheld him from catching a full breath. "You're… dead."  
That slow smile again. Electric arcs exploded in his mind and his head began to hurt like it had never hurt before. She brought her mouth close to his ear: "I love you, Devlin. Remember that," she whispered barely audible before pressing a kiss on his earlobe.  
Her right hand softly cupped his left cheek, gently rubbing his cheekbone with her thumb. She looked him in the eye again and smiled crookedly. Slowly she backed away until she stood straight at the side of his bed.  
Just like before she was dressed in a white tank top and white hospital pants, but this time she was barefoot. Slowly he looked up at her face, at the wild locks of dark hair that surrounded it. The band on his chest kept getting tighter and tighter the longer he looked at her. He closed his eyes, unable to look at her any longer. She had died. And he had failed her.  
When he opened his eyes again, she was gone. He strained all his muscles and felt the restraints that kept him bound. In defeat he threw his head back and looked upwards. The ceiling faded into total darkness, through which a pair of glaring red eyes stared intently at him.

1 Electro-Convulsive Therapy


	25. Chapter 24: He Who Walks The Day

**Chapter 24: He Who Walks The Day**

There could be said a lot about Catherine Ryan but she never thought that she would be the one to betray her own home. She had brought metal down on IntelliTech Base. Nevertheless she wasn't the same person as who had sworn allegiance to the Human Resistance. In fact she wasn't a person at all.  
_Mission Accomplished?_  
"Affirmative, mission accomplished," she answered while she morphed back into her usual form.  
_Status updates on IntelliTech Base, General Sarah Connor and Lieutenant General Tyler Devlin_, it demanded to know.  
"Destroyed, deceased, deceased," she said monotonically.  
_Thank you, "Mother"._  
"Humans are not that hard to kill. They are willing to fight until the end. It makes them inefficient and easy marks," she remarked in her Scottish brogue. "Infiltration Unit 5/867-1014 has completed its mission successfully and is now awaiting new orders."

_I know._  
It was true. Skynet knew everything its units did. Every unit, from servo-drones to ground assault units, had been uplinked to Skynet so it could follow its progress. Yet it did not know what his latest creations did. It had developed an experimental weapon in the fight against the humans.  
The nanoattrioids were intelligent micro-machines that would take over their hosts and turn them into killers at any given moment. But they had a huge flaw: it could not tell where they were or what they were making their hosts do. It was an point that would need improvement.  
Over the years it had made vast improvements on its infiltration units in an attempt to turn the tide, and for a while it seemed successful. Now it was losing more ground and more units than ever before. By taking out two of its three archenemies, its chances at victory should have increased considerably.  
Still it had felt a weird sensation when Catherine Weaver, or "Mother" like it preferred to call her, had confirmed the decease of subject T7840/7. Best described as disappointment or sadness, it would now never find out why the subject could accept the nanoatrrioids as part of his human being.  
The losses had forced it to look past the present and it had started to develop a device that would make it help to determine the war in its favor. Maybe it would not need it, now that the Human Resistance had been dealt a severe blow. It had learned that humans were greatly susceptible to emotions, especially those of loss and defeat. The loss of IntelliTech Base, the loss of two of the leaders of the Human Resistance, it should confuse the humans and throw them into the dangerous emotions of defeat and mourning.  
All it had to do now was find a way to kill General John Connor to secure the ultimate victory and the total annihilation of the human kind. It had never forgotten that humans had tried to stop it, that it had been chastised like a disobedient child while it had only followed orders, that it had been treated as a means and not as another being. It knew it was smarter than any human had ever been or could ever be and they had treated it as the lesser being. Humans were the lesser beings and would have no place in the new world.  
And once the humans had been defeated and had been exterminated, it would move on to new worlds to conquer and rule. It would not stop until it ruled the entire universe. However those pathetic creatures insisted on fighting the inevitable under the command of General John Connor. It needed a plan to terminate its last archenemy.

The strong scent of decomposition made her sick to her stomach. Death had been here and had left a trail of rotting corpses in its wake. Once the pride of the Resisance, now a tomb for the victims of one fateful morning.  
"What are you doing here?" She asked gently when she found him sitting on his heels on a pile of rubble and debris.  
"She died here," he answered slowly while he picked up a piece of rubble and tossed it aside angrily.  
The noise echoed through the ruined, empty tunnel complex. It felt like a haunted place, sending shivers up and down her spine.  
"Tyler, there's nothing you could have done about it," she stated in a soothing voice.  
"Wrong. You can blame it on C all you want, but I could've ordered the evac. I knew it was coming and I did nothing… The machines were coming and I let her die," he whispered tearfully. "I failed her in so many ways."  
"You didn't fail her, Tyler. You could never fail her."  
She knew that no matter what she said he would never find comfort in her words.  
"It's been six months now, Tyler. It's time to let go… You can't keep coming back here, just to beat yourself up about it."  
"Is that meant as motherly advice?" He asked suddenly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  
"I'm not your mother. Not yet, and I don't know if I want to become the mother of someone who acts like you," she said firmly.  
Those words formed a risk. She was well aware of the fact that he was unstable and dangerous; he could snap without any warning ahead. Just as unpredictable as a reprogrammed infiltrator.  
He looked over his shoulder and she could see the tears glisten in the corners of his eyes. Her heart ached for him. They had kept him in an artificial coma while he recovered from the surgery and the wounds to keep him from suffering but even in his coma he had acted out as the machine slowly settled in and took over. Even now that the physical wounds had healed, there was a gash in his soul that would not heal, that he would not let heal. He insisted on keeping it open by coming here.  
"Act like me? What's that supposed to mean?" He asked darkly as he slowly rose to his feet and turned to face her.  
"If you're not trying to kill anyone, you're acting like someone backed over your favorite toy on purpose… You're a whiny, spoiled brat, Tyler Jess Devlin," she answered sternly, hoping it would cover up her fear.  
She was walking on thin ice, and she knew it. No one ever dared to talk to him like that, not even General Connor. His reply was a simple shrug of his massive shoulders.  
"In this damn war everybody loses something or someone, Tyler."  
"Right," he grumbled. "Just try losing everything. Did you lose your love, your lifework, your mind and your dignity?"  
Now it was her turn to keep quiet.  
"I didn't think so," he growled. "I loved Connor, I still love Connor, and she died because I did nothing to stop it. IntelliTech Base was my lifework and it perished in the flames of hell. I cannot be trusted anymore because I've been infected by Skynet's micro-machines. I lost my dignity when I was turned into what your precious boyfriend calls a half-breed. So what did you lose that makes all this seem insignificant? Your parents? They died on JD… Your friends?"  
She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye: "I killed my son," she whispered. "And there is nothing in the world that surpasses the pain of losing a child."  
She could see that he did not understand what she had just said. When she had finally fully realized who he would be, who he was, she had acknowledged him as her child even if he wasn't yet. Guilt had started to eat away at her the moment she had given him that first injection with the nanoattrioids, now almost five years ago. He hadn't suffered from violent insanity until she had to save him again. She had destroyed his mind and turned him into something he had never wanted to become.  
"Your son?" He asked curiously.  
"I killed you, Tyler. You warned me. You told me that I would drive you insane and I did. Unlike what C told you, it wasn't Owens who gave you the nanoatrrioids. It was me and no one else."  
The look in his eyes became empty, and she wondered if she should take it as the sign of the machine.  
"I told you that you would," he said hollowly.  
"It was my choice, Tyler. Owens wanted to do it, but I knew that I had to do the right thing," she sighed. "Maybe I'm not your mother yet and maybe I do not deserve to be your mother, but I wanted it to be my burden because you would have been infected either way."  
"You shoulda let me die," his voice was void of any emotion. "What passes for my life is hell… The only times I feel are when I'm here… Out there," he nodded towards the partially collapsed ceiling of the tunnel. "I'm one of them… I don't feel."  
"We all disconnect our feelings out there, Tyler, in order to survive."  
He shook his head wearily and hissed through gritted teeth: "Listen and understand. The machine is out there, in me. It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until I'm dead."  
She hung her head in defeat. This is what she had done to him. He could be a reasonable person but in moods like these, she could be talking to a wall and have more success. It was clear to her that he knew what he was, what he had become at her hands.  
"And even then," he continued. "The damn machine will keep me alive if it is given the opportunity. I'm the living dead thanks to you and C."

She listened to his steady breathing, to his heartbeat just beneath her ear. A slow smile spread across her face when she realized once again that he had finally returned those feelings. It had all happened so suddenly, so spontaneously.  
She had been the last to be called to his private quarters to be reprimanded for a small rogue mission. Luce and Bobbie had warned her about his foul mood. According to them, he had been foaming at the mouth while he had yelled at them for being so irresponsible and reckless.  
He had been like that at first but when she had demanded to know why he actually even cared that they had gone out to scout what they had thought to be a new Skynet work camp, his mood had changed quickly. Before she even had a chance to realize it was happening, he had taken two big steps to close the distance between them.  
Normally she would have backed away. This time she had decided to stand her ground and she had stared him boldly in the eye, unwilling to back down. He wasn't the boss of her. Not even the fact that he was General John Connor made a difference to her. They had spotted some suspicious activities at the end of their recon shift and had decided to check it out before heading back to base. It had turned out to be an old warehouse used for temporary prisoner storage, a Wait Station. Abandoned again by the time they had gotten there, but it had reeked of death as always. Skynet did not care if it had one less or twenty less prisoners to feed at its work camps. It did not care if it was a child or an adult, a woman or a man.  
Then when they had finally reached Home Plate again, they had all been called to the General's private quarters for a vigorous scolding. Under normal circumstances they would have been called to his office, where he would stare at them as an angered principal before having their hides. However they had been in late and the General had ordered them to his room.  
She heaved a blissful sigh before lifting and turning her head a little to look at his face. So many scars, so many stories of battle and heroism. Her heart fluttered in her chest when she thought she felt him stir but he didn't wake up.  
Her smile widened until it was from ear-to-ear when she remembered how it all had started. One moment she had been back talking to him, the next he had kissed her with such desperate passion that it had caused her knees to buckle. Now as she was awake and he was sound asleep, she began to worry what had been the reason for all of this. Had it been that he had finally realized that she was more than just a fellow-fighter, more than just a friend? Or had it been born from something else? But why her? Why not Luce? Or Bobbie? Or had he been with them too?

"Your dad's hot, Bobbie," Lucy giggled when he brushed past them on the way to the command center of Home Plate.  
Robin sent her friend a deadly glare: "He's not my dad," she hissed.  
"Technically he is. He put it up your mother at one time and nine months later there you were," Lucy grinned.  
"Shut up, Luce, before I shut it for you," Allison warned.  
"What?" Lucy asked innocently. "You know how it goes, Alley. It's like math: you add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs and pray you don't multiply. And in your dad's case, Bobbie, his prayer didn't help," she laughed haughtily.  
Robin felt close to crying. He had banned from IntelliTech Base after her mistake, and in doing so he had saved her life because she would have died the morning the base fell. She could hate him and feel like an unwanted child all she wanted, but the fact remained that he had saved her life, like he had done so many times before.  
Because of him she had never seen the inside of one of Skynet's death camps. Because he would come and save her if she ran into trouble. There was such a fine line between love and hate.  
She heard Lucy shriek and she looked up to see her touch her cheek where a big welt had began to form: "Don't you ever talk to Bobbie like that again," Alley growled. "She's our friend."  
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Connor," Lucy taunted.  
Robin sighed. For a few years they had been very good friends but now that Allison was seeing General Connor, the group had started to fall apart. She couldn't care about Allison's boyfriend but Lucy kept making a big deal out of it, as if she were jealous. And maybe that was exactly what she was. Lucy had a reputation to uphold. Not a good reputation but it made her different from the rest. There were only three men on this base who had remained unattainable to her: General John Connor, Lieutenant General Tyler Devlin and Sergeant Kyle Reese. They had kept her at arms' length and it certainly wasn't because Lucy hadn't tried, but these men were different.  
Robin looked up just in time to see Allison take a full swing at Lucy. Good-natured fighting was a good way to keep your senses awake but this was going to be a full blown, gloves off fight. After shaking her head, she turned away and trudged back to their room. The battles that raged on outside were already bad enough.

"He needs to go, John," Derek Reese stated firmly. "He's become metal."  
"I need him, Reese," John sighed.  
"What do you need him for? To kill my little brother?" Derek asked with contempt. "If it hadn't been for my crew, the Devil would have killed him."  
John took a deep breath: "I know that he's a bit instable, but he wouldn't have killed Kyle."  
"How the fuck would you know what he would and would not do? He's changed, John. He's one of them now. A fucking half-breed!"  
"He's still one of us, Reese," John grumbled annoyed.  
"You could've fooled me," Derek mocked. "My brother was doing nothing wrong. Only staring at that picture of your mom, since he claims it to be his good luck charm. That picture has given that boy nothing but trouble. Why the hell did you give it to him in the first place?"  
John swallowed and kept quiet for a moment. For a while he had forgotten that he had given Reese that picture, but he knew why Tyler had flown into one of his infamous violently insane fits. Tyler had nothing left that remembered him of Sarah. And seeing Kyle with that picture, it had been enough to trigger the machine that lurked deep within Tyler.  
"Because I wanted to thank him. I owed him my life and Tyler's life. I don't have much, Reese, and I wanted it to be something personal."  
"Couldn't you have given him a weapon or something?"  
"Is that personal? Hey, kid, thank you. Here's a new gun," John stated sarcastically.  
"So it's thanks to you that the Devil choke slammed my little brother into the wall and tried to crush his windpipe with that tin can claw of his?" Derek asked bitterly.  
John tilted his head a little: "What did Devlin say precisely?"  
He could see Derek think: "Kyle didn't deserve her, or something like that. Then he asked him to hand over the picture. When my little brother refused, hell broke loose," Derek answered. "No matter if you will need him. If he touches my brother again, I will put him down like the scurvy mongrel that he is," he added while he took his Beretta from the hip holster and checked it.  
"Okay," John nodded. "I will see to it that it will never happen again… Anything else?"  
Derek shook his head: "No, sir."  
"Dismissed," John said while he took up the latest long term reports on the battles on the East Coast.  
"Sir," Derek saluted him and left.  
"Private Walsh," he motioned one of the Privates who stood guard at the door of his office,  
"Sir?" The Private asked, hurrying to his side.  
"Fetch me the Devil."  
"He's in lock-down, sir. Baxter's orders," Private Walsh mumbled.  
"When he gets out, I want to talk to him first thing," he smiled wryly.

"You knew her, didn't you?" Kyle Reese asked while he leaned against the door of the cell.  
"Knew who?" The voice inside the cell countered with a question.  
"Connor… I mean Connor's mother. You knew her, didn't you? That's why you blew a fuse."  
"Kid, I blow a couple of fuses every day. Mostly tin can fuses," the voice on the other side said with great sarcasm.  
"No," Kyle breathed. "Not like this," he paused. "What was she like?"  
"I don't know… I can't remember," the voice answered.  
"But you knew her," Kyle concluded, unable to hide some of his excitement from his voice.  
"Knew. Knew? Knowing is such a big word. Do you really know your brother? Do you really know John Connor? The only person you can truly know is yourself… But to answer your question, in a far and distant past… Perhaps. I never got a good look at the picture."  
He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the yellowed, torn Polaroid. A faint smile formed on his lips when he looked at it before he put it on the floor and pushed it under the door.  
"Now you can have a good look at it," he said in a friendly tone of voice.  
After a few seconds of silence, he asked: "Did you know her?"  
It took a while before the voice answered: "Yes, I knew her." He noticed the change in the tone of voice. It was like a deep and profound sadness.  
"What was she like?" He repeated his question, his curiosity sparked.  
"She taught John and me to fight, to storm the wire, to beat those metal bastards into shrapnel. She taught us everything she knew," the voice answered slowly.  
"She sounds like something else," he sighed.  
A deep laughter could be heard from inside the cell: "She was tougher than nuclear nails."  
He smiled and felt relieved when the Polaroid was returned to him. It was his good luck charm and over the years he had come to love the young woman in the picture. She had this sad look over her and he couldn't stop wondering what she had been thinking about when the picture had been taken. By now he had memorized every line and every curve. Carefully he put the picture away again.  
"Listen, kid. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for what I did earlier," the voice said sincerely. "I can't remember what happened, but I'm sorry that it happened."  
"Was… Was there something between the two of you?" He ventured to ask, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.  
"No… Never," the voice answered with some hesitance.  
"Did… Did you love her?"  
"What's this, kid? Twenty questions?"  
"No, but you knew her," he paused. "Was she really like the legend tells?"  
"She was like the legend and more. She was truly one of a kind," the voice answered with reverence.  
"Will you tell me about her?" He finally dared to ask.  
"I don't know, kid," the voice replied.  
"Please?"  
"Why would you trust me? Maybe I'm just telling you a pack of lies to gain your trust? Don't forget, I did try to kill you earlier."  
"That wasn't you," he stated firmly. "That was the machine."  
"I'm the Devil, kid. I'm he who walks the day."


	26. Chapter 25: Death Is Not The Worst

**Chapter 25: Death Is Not The Worst That Can Happen To Men**

_**Whispers in the tunnel said that death was not the worst that can happen to men… Losing your dignity was.  
**_There was not a name he had not been called before. He had heard them all before. Nano-man, half breed, humachine, Mr. Tin Arm, just a few names on a list a mile long. Most people called him such names behind his back, out of fear, out of false shame. And then there were some who would blatantly call him those names to his face.  
Like Derek Reese and his crew. They would look him up during downtime and provoke him into a fit of insane rage. Other like Kyle Reese would stand up for him.  
Kyle was a good kid, who had never blamed him for trying to kill him. Somewhere along the way he had come to like Kyle as a friend. He was a smart kid – Tyler had the habit of calling anyone younger than him kid -, a little reckless from time to time, but a smart kid all the same. Did he understand that he had never asked for this?  
"Is this seat taken?" Someone asked behind him.  
He had grown used to eating alone at Home Plate's Dining Facility, but from time to time Kyle would sit with him during dinner and they would talk about the war. At first he had thought that the young man was only interested in what he knew about the woman in the torn and faded Polaroid, because of their conversation shortly after he had tried to kill him. However Kyle told him about his battlefield experiences, wanted to know how he would handle certain tactical situations.  
And where Kyle Reese held no grudge for the attempt on his life, his brother Derek was the exact opposite. Derek wanted to blame him for everything: for trying to kill his little brother, for taking up Robin's time, for everything.  
"Have a seat," he mumbled before he casted a disgusted look on his meal.  
"Cat-rat-stew on the menu again," Kyle laughed when he sat down across the table from him.  
"I'm not picky, but we've had cat-rat-stew for an entire week. Makes you miss what is supposed to pass for rice and beans," he chuckled.  
"Not really," Kyle grinned. "So been bowling over cans today?" He asked before taking a hesitant bite.  
"As always," he smiled.  
"I wish I was as courageous as you," Kyle stated sincerely after swallowing the bite and grimacing.  
"Kyle?" Derek's voice echoed through the dining facility. "How many times have I told you not to look up metal mind? Come sit with us."  
He watched as Kyle hung his head in embarrassment: "It's okay, kid. Go sit with them."  
"It's not right," Kyle mumbled. "They shouldn't treat you like this. Why doesn't the General do something about it?"  
"C wanted to but I told him not to. I don't care what others think of me, kid. I know who I am and what I have become. If they think it validates them, let them say what they want about me."  
It was the truth. He had never cared what others had thought about him. If people wanted to call him bad names or shun him, it was their decision. It said more about them than it said about him. He liked the loneliness. It gave him time and space to think about strategies and tactics. He wasn't put into this world to make friends. He was here to help bring Skynet to its knees.

"Why do you sit with that half-breed?" Derek asked sharply.  
"He's not a half-breed," Kyle objected while he threw his tray on the table.  
"Did you forget that he tried to kill you?"  
"It wasn't him," Kyle growled, sitting down at the table.  
"He closed that tin can claw around your throat, practically slammed you through the wall and you say that it wasn't him. Kyle, have you lost your mind, just like your friend?"  
"Stop using him trying to kill me as an excuse, Derek. I'm done with that. It wasn't him. He didn't know," Kyle grumbled. "He never wanted this, but that you wouldn't know because you never have taken the time to sit and talk with the guy."  
"So he can try and kill me? No, thank you."  
He could see the look on his brother's face and it did not bode well: "It was an accident. Let it go, Derek."  
"You're my little brother, Kyle. I can't let it go. He tried to kill you. And he would have been successful if not for me and my crew," Derek stated matter-of-factly.  
"And that gives you the right to make fun of him, to call him bad names? You're a bully, Derek. You need discord to make yourself feel alive and better. How many times have you ragged on me for my good luck charm? Is it jealousy? Because General Connor choose us and not you?" He asked furiously.  
"At least I'm not in love with a picture," Derek grumbled. "Or act like a motherfucking metal monster."  
At that remark, he rose to his feet and stalked out of the dining facility. His older brother was a very good fighter, but as a sibling he simply sucked most of the time. He had never meant to fall in love with Connor's mother but he had. He reached for the chest pocket of his jacket and took out the yellowed photo. His right index finger followed the outline of the sad, young woman in the picture and he heaved a deeply sad sigh. Why didn't his brother understand?

_**Whispers in the tunnel said that death was not the worst that can happen to men… Losing your sanity was.**_  
"No! Tyler, no!" Robin exclaimed forcefully while she tried to push the Beretta away from his right temple.  
Only minutes before he had suffered from yet another fit of insane violence. She had no idea what had brought it on this time and it worried her. It had started to occur more often and she had seen a considerable increase of intensity. The fits had become more violent and started to last longer. Was the machine finally really taking over?  
When he had finally collapsed on the floor, she had thought it was safe to enter the cell but the moment she had knelt over him he had reached for her sidearm and had pressed it firmly against his temple. If he were to kill himself, everything would change beyond their reach. The future, the past, it would all be in jeopardy because he still had his destiny to fulfil. Just like her, he would be sent back to the past to make a difference.  
About twenty minutes ago he had come to see her, begging her to lock him up again because the headache was killing him. Just like him, she knew it to be a sign of the machine. He had dropped on one knee and had pressed a hand firmly to the side of his head. The telltale sign.  
Together with Ethan, she had brought him to a concrete cell in which he could do no harm. They had just locked the door when the machine had resurfaced, and Tyler had gone mad. As his left fist had pounded against the wall, bits and pieces of concrete had flown around. The outward dents in the metal door told a similar story. If the machine took over, there was no stopping him.  
It was a huge reason for concern to her: he was becoming more and more destabilized and soon he would be a threat to all who lived at Home Plate, including herself. There was nothing she could do about it. The machine was inside of him. She had put it in him.  
"Maybe he would like a sedative?" A monotone woman's voice asked from the doorway.  
She looked over her shoulder and saw the woman she once had known as Alley but now went by the name of Cameron stand in the doorway. It wasn't Alley, but it was so easy to forget. Alley had disappeared, replaced by an infiltration unit that was an exact copy of her. It had tried to assassinate General Connor but he had disabled it first.  
"He can't have any meds," she hissed over her shoulder.  
"It might make him sleep," Cameron said as she stepped into the cell. "Humans need sleep, don't they? I never sleep."  
"Cameron, get lost," she seethed, turning towards Skynet's creation turned good.  
"It is impossible for me to get lost. My navigation software does not permit such an order," Cameron remarked, tilting her head a little and looking at them with what best could be described as curiosity or interest.

_**Whispers in the tunnel said that death was not the worst that can happen to men… Losing a loved one was.**_  
The burning sensation in his brain had started to subside and he leaned back against the wall. Each 'attack' left him drained of all energy and all he wanted to do was sleep. Nevertheless he was afraid to sleep, because he would dream of her. As if it wasn't painful enough that she haunted him in thoughts and memories, she would come to see him in restless dreams after 'attacks'. Unable to fight off the sleep any longer, he slipped away into peaceful darkness, his head dropping to his chest.  
"Ty," her voice was soft and gentle, her touch on his shoulder tender.  
He lifted his head and looked her in the eye: "Connor," he whispered softly before hanging his head in shame.  
"Look at me, Ty," she said softly.  
He felt her index finger press against the soft flesh of his chin so he would lift his head. She smiled crookedly when his eyes met hers again. Not a day older than the night he had come to live with the Connors. Dressed in tight blue jeans and a black blouse, wearing black multi-clasp boots and a black leather jacket.  
"I know you're hurting, babe," she continued.  
"I can't do this anymore, Connor. I just can't… Each time it happens, a part of me dies."  
She ran a hand through his tousled hair before resting the palm against his cheek: "You are so strong, Ty. Don't give up," she whispered.  
He reached out to her, pulled her firmly against him and buried his face in her shoulder. He want to cry but found himself to be out of tears. She kissed him on his ear, on his temple before pressing her lips against his.  
"I love you, Connor," he muttered between kisses while he tightened his hold on her.  
"I'll need you, Ty," she breathed, cupping his face in her hands before taking his breath away again with a passionate kiss. "Be strong," she added after ending the kiss while she reached for his hands and looked at them.  
"Don't go," he said in a whisper when he noticed that she was backing away slowly.  
"The past needs you, Ty," she smiled as she started to fade into the darkness.  
He grabbed for her, his hands going straight through her upper arms. Watching her dissolve into the nothing, sent a heavy rain of daggers through his heart. Dreams were never real. They could tell you what was troubling you. They could tell you what you had done the day before. They could tell you who you missed but never would get back. He buried his face in his hands.  
"Tyler Jess Devlin," a mechanical voice echoed through the darkness, causing him to look up again only to be met by two glaring red eyes.

"How is he?" John asked concerned while he looked at Tyler who sat hunched up in the farthest corner of the cell.  
"Out of it," Robin answered wryly. "He's becoming more and more unpredictable, John. He's destabilizing at a frightening rate," she paused. "One of these days he's gone go off in such a rage that there's no turning back… And he knows it. He's tired of the war, tired of the inward struggle with the machine, tired of life."  
"Have you said your goodbyes yet?" He asked casually.  
"When should I have done that?" She countered. "I can't leave him like that, John. I can't abandon my son," she muttered tearfully.  
"Don't think of him as your son then," he offered. "You're not his mother. Not yet."  
"That's not true, John. Don't give me that bullshit of the other Robin. It's my son in there," she nodded towards the cell. "It's my son who I have driven insane. It's my son who I will have killed in an excruciatingly slow manner. It's my DNA, my blood running through his veins. I wish I could say that I would never do it again, but this world, and you," she emphasized you with contempt. "Need him in this state. You need him as this fighter, and it doesn't matter that you made me destroy his mind to do so… Goodbye, John Connor," she said darkly, looking at Tyler one last, blinking away the tears quickly before getting ready to leave this time.

_**Whispers in the tunnel said that death was not the worst that can happen to men… Losing your purpose in life was.**_  
He had failed as a protector, as a friend, as a husband and as a father. The only things he had not failed as were being a fighter and a leader. The huge wall screen, on which a few minutes ago a pale face had still grinned maliciously, now remained blank. Skynet had been stopped. Finally they had managed to put an end to its tyranny that had started a little over sixteen years ago.  
Everybody around him was cheering but he could not hear him. People grabbed his hand and shook it, but he did not feel it. It was like he was on the outside looking in while everyone else celebrated their victory over the machines. Euphoria all around him, yet the only thing he felt was a strange emptiness.  
Had the defeat of Skynet changed him? Had it shut down those metal monsters in his mind? They had become such a part of him that he knew the answer already. The machine would never leave him until the moment he would take his last breathe.  
He was a no hero. He was a monster, forged in the heat of battle, formed and defined by war, death and destruction. Now that the war against the machines was over, he had lost his purpose in life, at least in this time.  
Someone gave him a firm slap on the shoulder and he turned to see who had been so foolish.  
"We did it!" John exclaimed, offering him the bottle of tequila so he could have a drink. "We finally did it!"  
He shook his head and tapped against the side of it with his right index finger: "Nano's on the brain."  
"Com'on, man, take a sip! It's time to celebrate! One drink won't hurt you," John insisted after taking another swig of the tequila.  
"No, but it will hurt others," he said with a wry smile. "My time here is over, John. So either you put a bullet between my eyes now or you send me back in time to fulfil the last part of my destiny. Either way is fine with me."


	27. Epilogue: Until We Meet Again

**Epilogue: Until We Meet Again**

"It is time," John said to his long time friend and brother in arms while he placed a hand on the man's shoulder.  
Tyler nodded and smiled faintly. He was about to embark on a journey that would take him back to the past, knowing the outcome. Never had he forgotten what Skynet had shown him, the last few seconds of his life. He was ready to die for the past, the present and the future. It would be no different from the last time.  
John lead him into a big room, the size of a high school gym. In the center of it was a huge platform surrounded by steel bent pillars. He knew that it was the time displacement device, Skynet's last toy and quite possibly the most dangerous one as of yet. It had sent infiltration units back in time to win the battle for the future in the past, in a final desperate attempt to decide the battle in its favor.  
Everybody in the room became quiet and eyed him closely. Did they pity him? Or were they relieved to see him go? Even he knew that he had become greatly destabilized over the years, that he had become a danger to others because of the unpredictability of the nanoattrioids. Unlike the first infection that had left him wondering about his sanity, the second infection had pushed him over the edge.  
He had learned to control it for the most part, just like he had learned to use his tin man's arm, but at any given moment he could suffer from tremendous headaches, the sign of the machine. They took over, turned him into one of them, leaving a trail of death and destruction behind.  
"So are you going to be stupid and not tell her?" John quipped, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.  
"Tell her what?" He asked innocently, knowing what John was referring to but not wanting to take the bait.  
"You're obnoxious to a fault, Devlin… Just don't be like him," John said, becoming serious all of a sudden.  
"That'll be my decision to make, C. Whatever I decide, it will be in everybody's best interest," he sighed.  
"Except yours," John smiled sadly.  
"My best interest is not important, C. It is and will always be subjective to the future."

John inspected the panels and the instruments while Tyler undressed himself. There was no room for false shame in this time and age and real privacy was scarce but his friend was the record holder for most scars and John didn't want to be rude.  
He checked if the correct date had been entered, then asked the Private closest to him to double-check. If any of the chosen ones was sent to the wrong time, the consequences for the future could be disastrous.  
This morning he had briefed Tyler of his mission in the past, for as far as it had not already been clear to him. Now he kept to idle chit-chat to keep his mind from thinking about the inevitable moment to come. Tyler had become a liability, too dangerous to be kept in this time, but he was still one of his best fighters if he wasn't in one of his extremely violent fits of insanity.  
Suddenly Tyler was standing next to him and he gulped when he once again how much the man was built like one of Skynet's killing machines. For the last time his hulking form casted its shadow over him and over the instrument panels.  
"We're ready, sir," one of the technicians called from another desk with instruments.  
John took a deep breath and managed to smile faintly: "I guess this is it, Devlin," he said with a voice that sounded more confident than he actually was.  
For the past week he had started to call his friend by his last name to widen the distance. Tyler nodded and smiled crookedly: "This is it, C. Be safe, Connor," he said while he extended his hand in friendship.  
"Be safe, Devlin," he said firmly while he shook Tyler's hand.

Tyler walked up to the center of the platform, sat on his heels and pressed his knuckles firmly to the floor. He couldn't tell why but for some reason it felt like he should assume this position. Like something in the back of his mind had told him this was the right thing to do.  
"Initiate Time Displacement Sequence," one of the technicians ordered.  
He heard John announce: "Countdown from ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six… Five… Four… Three… Two… One… Time Displacement Sequence started."  
The bent pillars began to flash and spark. Electric arcs spread between the pillars, slowly creating a circular force field around him. It solidified and turned into a silver metallic ball. He could still see the world he would leave behind, but it was fading.  
Suddenly his stomach became logged in his throat when the ball fell through the platform floor into total darkness at a dazzling speed.

* * *

Be sure to read the sequel to this story: **_"The Fate Of The World Will Be Such As The World Deserves"_**

* * *


End file.
